


Lines

by My_Coffee_Is_Hot_Chocolate



Series: Lines Universe [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: ABA Therapy done wrong, APSS is messed up, Agiven at this point, All the cuddles, Angst, Autistic Character, Autistic Mush, Autistic Spot, Deaf Jack, Every kind of Soulmate AU, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, I never tagged those?, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Marvel - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Protective Race, Race is the best, Race's little brother is a little shit, Sharing a Bed, Snyder is evil, So much angst, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Spot loves Carrie Fisher just like the rest of us, Spot needs love, Spot's the angst this time, Star Wars - Freeform, The Newsies and Mental Health Issues, There will be more pain, Trans Jack Kelly, What else is new, You thought you hated Snyder?, but ANGST TRAIN IS PULLING OUT OF THE STATION, choo choo, meltdowns, why did I do this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-03-19 13:58:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 22,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13705896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Coffee_Is_Hot_Chocolate/pseuds/My_Coffee_Is_Hot_Chocolate
Summary: Racetrack Higgens had a soulmate.They had deep, beautiful brown eyes. They didn’t have a good living situation, if the dark brown spots that covered his back and slashes over his ribs were anything to go by. They were ambidextrous, and they had been cutting neat lines into their arms since Race was 14.Spot Conlon had a soulmate.They had bright blue eyes, never seemed to get hurt badly, and were perfect. In every way, Spot was convinced. They wouldn't want him. He was convinced of that too.





	1. Chapter 1

Racetrack Higgens had a soulmate.

He and his soulmate shared marks on their skin, in their eye color. Any scar that Race got, it would show up on his soulmate's skin in bright blue.

Race knew a few things about his soulmate. 

They had deep, beautiful brown eyes. They didn’t have a good living situation, if the dark brown spots that covered his back and slashes over his ribs were anything to go by. They were ambidextrous, and they had been cutting neat lines into their arms since Race was 14.

Race never really got hurt, any marks his soulmate had would be small. (There may have been one on their back from when he was 5, but that would have been it for the big ones).

Not everyone had Race’s marks, soulmate marks depended a great deal on the circumstances of the soulmates in question. Ways for soulmates to find each other ranged from tattoos, to seeing each other in dreams, to seeing color.

Romeo and Specs had tattoos of what the other loved in full color. Routinely new images of the other would show up.

Jack and Davey were pen-pals, meaning that when they wrote something on their skin, it would show up on the other’s.

Albert and Elmer had each other's first words to each other on the other's wrist. 

Les had a red string, but he wasn't too concerned with it right then. Like most kids his age, he was 'playing the field’. He spent too much time with Jack.

Race's parents were the first he had told when he noticed big brown spots on his arms. His parents explained soulmates to him then, and he became very worried. 

“Does that mean my soulmate's hurt?”

Race's parents had looked at each other sadly. “Yes.”

Race’s face fell. “Why are they hurt? Did they fall?”

“No, sweetie. Those marks aren’t from a fall.”

That night, Race prayed for God to protect his soulmate until he could.

He was 7 years old.

Years passed, Race watching some brown marks fade away, new ones take their places, and slashes slowly cover his back and ribs. 

Every night he prayed his soulmate would be okay the next. He was dead set on finding them, keeping them safe. They would have the safety they clearly didn’t have at home with him.

It was when he was 14 the first neat, horizontal lines appeared. His eyes had widened, and he had run to his parents crying. They did what they could to comfort him, but there was only so much they could do. Ever since, Race had worn long sleeves. It wasn’t his secret to share.

The next night more lines appeared, on both arms. Race would later note that his soulmate was ambidextrous, but he was more concerned than anything else.

 

Two years later, when he was 16, Racetrack Higgens crashed into Spot Conlon. It was Spot's first day in the school, and Race quickly adopted him into his friend group.

That night, even more lines showed up. Race panicked.

He didn't know what to do.

The next day, Spot crashed into Race again. They struck up another conversation that dissolved into a debate. It was fun to debate with Spot.

There were no lines that night, but a big slash showed up over his chest. Race cried into his pillow.

Spot was at school the next day, but he winced with every movement. Race noticed quickly. “Spot, you okay man?”

“Why do you care?”

“Well, sorry for wanting to make sure you aren't dying.”

Spot was silent. He sat with the group at lunch that day, sitting next to Race and not eating anything. Race noticed he wore a baggy sweatshirt, far too big for him, and Race found it adorable. He was practically swimming in it.

When Jack threw out a movie reference, casual like normal, Spot was baffled. The reference had been to ‘Avengers’, and Spot revealed he had never once seen the movie. Everyone faked horror. Race gaped at him for a solid 15 seconds before inviting Spot to his house to watch the movie. 

Spot, surprisingly, agreed. 

They set the date for Friday, two days from then.

The next two nights, no new brown marks made appearances. For the first time in years, it seemed that God had answered his prayers. 

Race was giddy for those two days, bouncing up and down. Jack dragged him aside and asked what he was high on. Race, smiling like a idiot, replied that for the first time since they started, no new marks had appeared on his skin for two whole days.  
Jack pulled him in for a hug.

Spot showed up at Race’s house that night. They had arranged for it to be a sleepover, so both boys were in pajamas. And Spot looked adorable in pajamas that were way too big for him. 

They talked for about an hour before dinner, (Mac&Cheese) and then settling down with popcorn to watch the movie. Neither boy talked for the duration, too busy being transfixed. 

Once it ended, Race’s Mom called that it was time for them to go to bed. Spot was confused. “But it’s only 8.”

“Yha, that’s bedtime.”

Spot looked confused and nervous, but followed Race upstairs and brushed his teeth with the toothbrush he had brought with him while Race set up the sleeping bags. Spot got settled while Race brushed his own teeth, and they finally were ready to do standard sleepover things. 

Truth or Dare was the first. Spot took a truth first.

“What kind of music do you like?”

“Classic Rock.”

Race took a dare next, and Spot dared him to sing his favorite song. Not the song he was best at singing, the one he loved the most. Race sang ‘The Nights’. Spot sighed.

“Neeeerrrrdddd…”

“My turn! Truth or dare?”

“What the hell, truth.” Spot looked resigned. 

“What kind of soulmate bond do you have?”

Spot froze. And he looked Race dead in the eye. And Race… He knew that shade of brown. That exact shade. 

Race yanked the long sleeve of his shirt up. Revealing lines of brown that exactly matched Spot’s eyes. Said eyes looked down and froze, staring at the lines. And he pulled up his own sleeve, revealing matching lines in varying shades of bright red to pale tan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Abuse, violence against minors, and Snyder and the APSS being asses.

Spot Conlon had a soulmate.

He finally knew why the summer he turned five, a huge blue mark that ran down his ribs and over his spine, appeared. It was his soulmate’s. 

He had memorized the color, memorized every detail of every mark. Ever since he had been taught about soulmates in school he had been obsessed with them. Fixated, it was all he ever talked about. Whenever someone was willing to talk about soulmates he would dominated the conversation, waving his hands and smiling, clearly happy. 

The year he turned seven they said he had to go to a lady. She had only seen him once. The day after he was taken out of his normal class and put in a brand new class. 

Spot, or Sean as he had been known then, had been bouncing. More people to tell about all the cool stuff he knew! Like how long it took milk to curdle, or the newest kind of soulmate marks! 

He had waved as he walked inside, smiling a big, gap-toothed smile. “Hi! I’m Sean!” 

The other kids looked like they wanted to say hi back, but the teacher interrupted. “Hello Sean. I am Mr. Snyder. You will sit between Francis and Louis.

Mr. Snyder indicated a spot between a girl with dark skin like Sean’s, long hair and a nice dress, and a blond boy with one eye. He plopped down between them, smiling. He zeroed in on Louis, deciding he would be his new best friend. “Hi! I’m Sean, you wanna be my best friend?”

Louis looked at him, before making a shushing motion. He quietly whispered, “We can talk when Spider leaves.” 

Sean nodded enthusiastically. His dark mop of hair flying. “Okay Louis!” 

Louis looked around before whispering, “Call me Kid Blink. The one next to ya is Jack. He don’t like bein’ called a girl.”

Sean’s mouth opened into a ‘o’ like he had seen on TV. He nodded again, looking over at Fran- Jack. Whispering, he tried to get his attention. “Hi Jack, I’m Sean. Wanna be my friend?” He tapped Jack's shoulder.

Jack looked over, startled. Spot didn’t make eye-contact, instead focusing on Jack’s nose and cheeks. Quick movement caught Spot’s eye, Jack was moving his hands. Spot watched them, confused, until Louis shushed again. Jack looked up, around, and then returned his hands to his lap.

Spot looked up too.

Standing at the front of the class was Mr. Snyder. Spot couldn’t place his expression, it looked like how cartoon villains looked when they were about to start laughing evilly. And not like Dr. Doofenshmirtz, more like one of the Really Bad Guys.

But he couldn’t be one of the Really Bad Guys, could he? They were only in cartoons!

Jack was looking at his desk, hands folded on his lap. Spot looked to see Blink with his hands on the desk. Spot wasn’t sure what to do. 

“As you can see, we have a new student. Sean will be joining us for the rest of his time here in Hearst Elementary. He is in second grade, just like Francis, Louis, Michel, and Joshephene. Now stay here, I have to go deal with something.”

Snyder left, and all eyes turned to the woman who entered. She was dressed in a very pretty pink shirt and comfy looking jeans. Sean’s eyes fixed on the pink. It was his favorite color.

Jack got up and ran to the woman, moving his hands rapidly. The woman nodded and moved her hands back. Sean looked at Blink. “You’re in second grade too? So am I! Are we best friends now?”

Blink blinked. “Um, sure? You’se can join our gang.”

Sean leaned back. “Gangs are bad.”

Blink shrugged. “‘S just what we calls it. Davey told us what it meant and we liked it. Jack up there is our leader, he can’t hear, you need to speak Sign Language to talk with him.”

Sean nodded. He leaned around Blink and waved to the two kids down past Blink. “I’m Sean and I’m seven and I know all kinds a’ stuff! Soulmates are awesome, right? My soulmate has blue eyes, I have a huge mark on my back. What kind of bond do you have?” Spot spoke incredibly fast.

The two kids blinked at him. The one with curly hair responded. “I’m Mush. I love ponies. Not horses, they’se is too big. Ponies are just the right size and so fluffy! Shetland ponies especially. Have you ever seen one? They’re super fat and fluffy. My Mama owns one, it’s so nice!” Mush used his hands more and more as he talked, flapping them around excitedly. 

Sean considered. “Ponies are cute. Soulmates are better. Someone out there that is perfect for you.”

Blink smirked. Mush got up and sat down next to Blink, who scooted over in the chair so he could sit down, before they both threw arms across the other’s shoulders. “We’se already found each other. I’se had his name on me wrist, he had my name on his.”

Sean jumped up and bounced. “That’s so awesome! You two are so awesome, what’s it like havin’ a soulmate? You get to see each other every day!”

Blink smiled. “Best damn thing that ever happened to me Sean. Speaking of, you need a name.”

Sean blinked at Blink's use of a dirty word. “What’s wrong with my name?”

Blink looked at Mush. “It’s sos you don’t lose yourself kiddo.”

Sean was excited. The woman who had been talking to Jack walked over, Jack trailing behind her. “Is Sean here having his naming ceremony?”

Sean looked up at her, his eyes not quite focusing in on her eyes. She smiled. “Lots a freckles on this one.”

“I know, I know!” A little kid yelled. “Spot!”

Blink smiled. Sean smiled too. “I’m Spot!”

 

When he got home, the smile he had worn for most of the day, even when Spider had come back, was erased from his face, as well as any pretenses his parents loved him. They had just slapped him around for a few minutes, before his father yanked Spot’s shirt off and put out the cigarette on his arm. His mother watched with mild distaste, as his father did this several more times, before tossing Spot into his room.

Spot curled into a ball, his hand clutching the blue mark and reminding himself he had someone out there that would love him.

 

Years went by.  
Spot lost himself.

No longer was he the sunny, gap-toothed kid who would talk all day. He was quiet, avoiding people. All his friends from the class moved away for Third Grade. Spot was left alone looking after a bunch of kids. Keeping them safe from Spider.

It was his parents who took away his innocence, but it was that bastard who took away who he had once been. 

Duct Taping his hands to the desk, forcing him to stop talking, grabbing his jaw to make him look Snyder in the eyes. 

In 4th grade, Spot was teaching the younger kids how to stand up, but also distracting Spider from the little kids. Keeping them safe. But whenever he could, he would try to make the little ones laugh and let them talk about what they loved.

He entered Middle School with dread in his heart. 

But, the teacher was nice. It was like the nice woman in the pink shirt, he had never learned her name. 

She didn’t ducktape his hands, she didn’t grab his jaw and make him look her in the eyes. She asked him questions. But she still said, ‘Quiet hands’ whenever he got excited and started using his hands. 

In 8th Grade, he couldn't take it anymore. 

With every slice, he gave a thousand apologies. Something he had been forced to get into the habit of. But these were not forced. These were genuine apologies to the person he was supposed to love, for being unlovable. 

Because who would want to love him?

Two years later, in 10th grade, Spot’s family moved. 

He was in a brand new school, but the first day he sees people he hasn't seen in years. “Blink? Mush?”

They turn around, zeroing in on him. There they are. People he never thought he'd see again. 

“Spot?”

He joins them, resisting the urge to bounce up and down. No need to call attention. Mush has no qualms, his hands are everywhere. “Spot! You are going to love it here, it's so much better than our old school district. Jack and Davey are here too! We have so many friends, you’ve gotta meet em’!”

Spot shuffles his feet, before nodding. He agreed to meet with them again at lunch, but as he’s walking someone runs into him. 

It's a really cute blond guy.

He helps Spot pick up what he dropped and exchange names. His name is Racetrack Higgens.

He meets Blink and Mush at lunch like he promised, and fills them in on what had happened in his life since they left and they do the same. 

Turns out they don't use Quiet Hands here. Blink is in full classes, Mush gets any help he needs. Spot might be in Mush’s class tomorrow, he checks his schedule and sees that yha, he’s spending the day in Mush's class.

Mush is overjoyed. 

The conversation goes on until the end of lunch, on the way out he spots Jack. Jack has short hair now, not long like it was all those years ago.

“Jack?”

Jack turns around, sees Spot, and smiles. “Sp… Spot, right?”

Spot blinks. “You'se can hear?”

Jack taps his ear, smiling. “Hearing aids. Man, I wish I had these in Elementary.”

Spot remembers all too well Jack's hands getting whacked if he started signing. At least he never got ducktaped, that was reserved for Spot, Mush and a kindergartener named Skittery. The Autistic kids.

“I’se real glad you can here now, Jacky boy. Makes it easier to tease ya.”

Jack laughed. “Sure Spotty.”

 

That night, Spot cuts. It's what he does almost every night when his lack of control gets too much. It terrifies him, and at the same time it's a comfort. He sends a million apologies to his soulmate that night.

 

The next day he sees Race on his way to lunch and they spend the walk to lunch debating. Race is friends with Spot’s old friends, so they sit together.

That night he doesn't finish dinner in time. He feels he deserves the gash he gets on his chest from the frying pan in lieu of cutting. 

The next day at lunch, Spot sits with his friends again. They're talking about a movie, Spot was trying to follow but it was hard. He had never seen the movie. Jack made a reference.

“It appears to run on some form of electricity.” 

Everyone else laughed. Spot looked at everyone. The laughter died.

'God, did I kill the mood?’

“Spot, have you ever seen Avengers?”

“No?”

Race stared at him for 15 seconds before saying anything. “You need to see it. My place, Friday. We can do a sleepover.”

Spot blinked before nodding. He had never done a sleepover before.

Spot doesn't get hurt nor hurt himself for the next two days. He doesn't want Race to know.

 

The day of the sleepover, Spot gets his first real sense of what parents should be. Loving, caring, not hurting their son.

Was this what all other families were like?

Race and Spot talked for over an hour until dinner, Mac&Cheese. Spot loved it. Conversation wasn’t forced, Race led it for the most part (That made the whole thing so much easier). 

The movie was amazing. He couldn't take his eyes off the screen once. He loved how they bantered and the battle over New York was fascinating. 

Spot loved it.

When they finished the credits (Race wouldn't let him turn it off until they were over, for a good reason Spot found) Race's mom said it was time for bed. 

This confused Spot. 

“It's only 8.”

Race shrugged. “That's my bedtime.”

This threw Spot off. That wasn’t when he went to bed. Breaking routine was bad. But he was a guest, so he followed Race upstairs and brushed his teeth with his toothbrush while Race set up the sleeping bag for Spot. 

Spot got settled while he waited for Race to be done brushing his teeth. The sleeping bag had a cool texture, not unpleasant, just interesting. Glancing around to make sure no one could see and chastise him, he picked it up and rubbed it against his cheek. It felt insanely nice. 

Footsteps in the hallway heralded someone’s arrival, and Spot hastily threw the bag back down. Race entered, and flopped on his bed. Spot remained on the floor, sitting with his legs folded under him. “So… Uh, what are we doing?”

“Slumber party games. Like Truth or Dare. Hey, wana play that?”

Spot nodded, he knew that game. He had learned it in 1st grade from his friends with older siblings. It was one of the few games he knew. Spot went first. He took a truth. Race asked him what his favorite kind of music was. “Classic rock, you next. Truth or dare?”

Race took a dare. 

“Sing your favorite song, not the one you sound the best singing, the one you love the most.”

Race sang ‘The Nights’. He sounded really good singing it. 

Spot rolled his eyes, and did what the people on TV Shows did. ”Neeerrrrddddd….”

It was Spot’s turn again, and once again he chose Truth.

“What kind of soulmate bond do you have?” 

Spot froze, staring Race dead in the- He knew that color. Memories of the scar in that exact shade of blue on his back came to the forefront of his mind. And Race’s eyes widened as he pulled up the sleeve of his shirt.

There in varying shades of brown, the darkest being the exact shade of his eyes, were hundreds of lines.

And Spot pulled up his own sleeve and revealed matching lines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. Yell at me on Tumblr. https://just-gimme-half-a-cup.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Protective Race. This is a shorter chapter, fair warning. Nothing bad this chapter, unless a complete lack of knowledge of medical stuff by the author.

“We… You…” Spot stutteres.

The first words out of Race’s mouth are, “Take off the shirt, that gash on your chest needs to be looked at.”

Spot blinks, before hugging himself. “It stopped bleeding ages ago…”

Race gets up and sits in front of the shorter boy. “Spot, it could get infected. If it isn’t already.”

Spot takes off his shirt, and revealed the big gash over his chest. It was scabbed over, thank god, but it also revealed how skinny he was. Race reached out to feel Spot’s ribs, he could count the bottom few, but Spot moved away at the contact.

Race refuses to let his face fall. He stood to get some bandages from the bathroom, coming back to find Spot right where he had left him. “Is it okay if I wrap your chest in these so that it doesn't get any worse?”

"What about stitches?"

"At this point they would do more harm then good, it's already starting to heal."

Spot nods, letting Race wrap his chest. He squirms, but it's over quickly. Race produces another roll, and reaches for Spot’s hands. Spot tracks every movement of Race’s hands with his eyes, why Race wasn’t sure, but he was careful nonetheless. Wrapping one arm, Race was equally careful with the other. Spot was silent. 

When he was done, he saw a flash of blue on Spot’s side. He smiled. “I remember when I got that.”

“I remember when it showed up.”

Race smiles softly. “How old were you when it showed up?”

“.. Five...” Spot shrugs.

He doesn't seem too sure how to keep the conversation going. So Race takes the lead again. “So, Spot…”

“Race, I don’t wanna talk about it.” He’s scowling to the right, but in the way Race had seen cartoon characters scowl. Race wants to ask, but he doesn’t. 

“I was just going to ask your favorite color.”

Spot pauses in what he was doing. He blinks, before responding. “Pink.”

He made eye contact, but it’s hard to read him. Race shrugs. “Mine’s brown.”

Spot shrugs too. “Huh.”

Race glances at the clock, and decides that almost 10:00 is time for sleeping. “We should be getting to sleep, it’s been a long night.” Spot nods, slipping into the sleeping bag. Race takes the bed, more than willing to give Spot all the time he needs. 

Before he falls asleep, Race thanks God. For giving him his soulmate and at last answering his prayers.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot is introduced to Marvel and Star Wars, cat comes out of the bag, and another cat is starting to poke a paw out.

The next morning, a Saturday, Race wakes up and out of habit checks himself for any new marks. Then he remembers that the person giving him the marks is in the same room. Looking around, he sees Spot still asleep in the sleeping bag. 

Race gets up and debates waking Spot up, deciding against it. Spot needs to sleep. 

Heading downstairs and greeting his mother, Race gets a bowl and fills it to the brim with cereal.

Spot comes downstairs and looks at the amount of cereal. “Is that for more than one person?”

Race shrugs before getting another bowl. “Any preferences to cereal?”

Spot shakes his head.

“Okay, I know one you will love. Trust me.”

Spot looks confused. “I do, but what does that have to do with cereal?”

Race reaches for the Lucky Charms box, pouring a healthy chunk into the bowl. Spot was once again confused. “Is that all for me? Just me?”

Race nodded, pouring in milk. Spot blinks. 

Both boys carefully carried the bowls of cereal to the table. Race's bowl lasted about ten minutes with distraction, Spot took a lot longer. He didn't stuff his face, instead he ate every bite carefully.

The sleeve of his shirt shifted down a little, revealing the edge of the bandage there, and Race was given an unnecessary reminder that that conversation was coming. But not now, when they had a more stable relationship. It could ruin any relationship they have now and Race is unwilling to risk it.

Race had spent too long looking to lose Spot.

The plan had been for Spot to stay over until noon, but it was extended until Sunday. Race citing that Spot had never seen The First Avenger or Iron Man, a travesty Race was going to fix if it killed him, but his mother got suspicious. 

“Antonio, what is going on? I can read you like a book, and the way you act around Spot is not how you normally act among your friends.” She gives him her trademark glare that never fails to get the truth out of anyone.

“We're soulmates. He’s my soulmate Mama.” Race says. He wasn't worried about getting kicked out or anything, his older sister had two girl soulmates and his father had two fathers. 

His mother skipped the 'you’re gay’ and got right to the point. “Did you bandage all the new ones?”

“Yha, first thing I did.”

His mother nodded. “Good. Let him know he can stay as long as he needs, I’ve seen too many of those marks appear on you to tolerate any more on him.”

Race nodded, going back to sit with Spot, who had become engrossed in The First Avenger. Spot did a double take. “You look like a skinny, curly haired version of the actor.”

“Chris Evans? Never thought of that before.. I could have stunt doubled maybe, but I was 7 when this movie came out.”

Spot blinks. “It's that old?!”

Race mocks offense. “How old do you think I am?”

Spot looked down, shoulders hunched forward. “I'm sorry…”

Race was immediately concerned. “Hey, it's okay. I was trying to be funny.”

Spot nods, getting back into the movie pretty quickly while Race tries to figure out what just happened. It should have been obvious he was being sarcastic, but Spot hadn't picked up on it. 

It was confusing. 

Pretty soon the credits and after credits scenes were rolling, and once Race said that it was done they put on Iron Man.

Race could see Spot falling in love.

He went so far as to yell at the screen when Tony left Pepper. “COME ON JUST GET TOGETHER!!!” He yelled, but instantly he looked terrified. Race had had to reassure him that no, everyone in the house had done that and that no one cared because it happened every time they watched Iron Man.

“Robert Downey Jr. is the best actor ever! Did you see those laser missals?!”

“Yes, Spot.”

“And when he comes out of that cave!! Setting all the bad guys on fire! That was so cool!!”

“I know, Spot.”

Spot excitedly talks on, and for one of the first times since Race has known him, if not the first, is now. He’s smiling and there's a light in his eyes. Race knows he would do anything to keep that light there.

They watch Iron Man 2 next, agree that it's not the first one but it's definitely good. Race makes a offhand comment that anyone not dead in the last 50 years would get. “They can't all be Empire.”

Spot looks utterly lost. “What movie?”

Race blinks at him. “What… Spot, ask my Mom if she can find get the microwave popcorn, I’m going to put on Star Wars for you.”

Spot does as he is told as Race digs through the movie collection and digs out the Star Wars trilogy.

Spot joins the Carrie Fisher fan club the first time she was on screen. “She's sending the plans away! She's clearly smart! It's safer than keeping it on her. And the actress-”

“Carrie Fisher.”

“She's amazing! I love her, she's my new favorite actress!”

Race laughs. “If you love her now, you will be smitten by the end of this one alone.”

Race watches as Spot gets more and more excited, watching the movie. “Han is so cool!”

“Eh, I like Chewy better.”

“He’s cool too.”

This is the best part of Spot's personality so far. Bright eyes and excitement over a movie. 

“Wow, Race did you see that?!”

“Yha-”

“It's so cool! He doesn't even look like it takes effort!” Spot is bouncing up and down, clearly having the time of his life. “This is the best movie ever!”

Race leans back. “Wait till’ you see Empire.”

Race notices a brief movement of Spot's hands, barely even a twitch, but he stops bouncing. He leans back into the couch with his hands pinned to his sides. 

Race really wants to know what caused this sudden change in behavior.

Spot unwinds again, bouncing and just generally being happy, but once again halfway through Empire he sinks back into the couch with his hands pinned to his sides again. 

They watch all the Star Wars movies but the prequels, Race deciding to not subject Spot to them.

By the time they're done it's close to 10:00pm, so they go to bed. Spot once again takes the sleeping bag, after Race insisted on checking his chest and wrists, and falls asleep quickly. Race stays up a little late to talk with the group chat.

'Mush, Blink, Jojo, Jack? Do you guys know why Spot would suddenly just, like, stop doing what he was doing?’ -Racer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is happy-er. Spot's POV of the last two chapters next. Comments and kudos mean the world, and a comment can actually help me! Tell me what you think, ask for clarification, anything! It makes me sooo happy to see comments.
> 
> Edit: Yha.... You know how I said Spot's POV in the next chapter of the last two? It's just going to be what happens next in Spot's POV.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This took forever and is super short but have it I'm proud of it.
> 
> __________
> 
> Cuddles, cuteness, and Race being the best. I would say I'm sorry but I'm only sorry about how long this took.

Spot can barely think his way out of a wet paper bag.

He had just found his soulmate. 

And his first reaction was to check Spot’s chest and wrists. 

Spot had been confused before, but now this was going into dream territory. At least he had been right about his soulmate being perfect, Race seemed pretty perfect so far. It was hardly surprising, but everything else was.

Waking up in the morning not hungry out of his mind was pleasant. And then a bowl of sugary cereal just for him? It made his day. And more movies just made it better. 

And Captain America forever earned a place in his heart. It was the best movie ever, and Spot was thoroughly in love with it. (It didn’t hurt the lead was hot) 

Than Iron Man 1&2, and Star Wars… (He loves Carrie Fisher) It was the best day ever. And for once when he fell asleep, he was the good kind of exhausted. 

The next morning was Sunday, and apparently the Higgens household believed fully in a lazy Sunday. Race and Spot for the second day in a row lazed around the house. It was really, really nice. The full stomach did not hurt.

Spot falls asleep at some point, and when he wakes up he finds himself cuddled next to Race, who is also sound asleep and clearly hadn’t moved. 

Spot was okay with that.

He fell back asleep quite quickly, and when he woke up again Race’s mom was calling them for dinner. Race was already awake and had let Spot stay where he was. 

The smell of spagettie and meatballs filled the house, and Race’s 4 siblings materialized in the dining room. Grandparents showed up, and everyone was sat around the table. Spot wasn’t sure he had ever seen this much food outside of school. 

Grace was said, and everyone dug in. 

Spot devoured his plate of spaghetti, Race smiling. “Spot, you got sauce on your nose.”

Spot tried to look at his nose. “I do?” He rubbed his nose. “Did I get it?”  
Race nodded. “Did you even taste any of that?”

Spot shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I taste it? I did, I just eat fast.”

Race shook his head, before getting dragged into a conversation with two older men, who wore matching rings. Spot turned back to his plate, which had been refilled. Spot blinked. “Huh?”

Race’s little brother leaned over the table. “Are you Spot?”

Spot nods. “Yha, who are you?”

The kid puffs out his chest. “I’m Tommy, Tony’s brother.” Spot notes the similarities the two brothers share. Race glares at Tommy. 

“Tommy, stop tormenting him!”

“I’m not! Mom!”

“Both of you be quiet, we have your grandparents over.”

Race and Tommy glared at each other from across the table. Spot was thoroughly entertained, as was everyone else. Most of dinner Spot remained quiet, not that he minded. Race said that Spot could come with him to school the next day. 

They go back up to Race’s room, Spot falling onto his sleeping bag and almost falling asleep within two minutes, but Race wouldn’t let him. “We have to check your chest.”

Spot sighs and pulls off his shirt, wincing as the bandages rub his skin the wrong way and the cut on his chest twinges. Race’s brow furrows. “It started bleeding again, we need to change these right now.” 

Spot nods. Race got up to go get more bandages, and Spot was left alone. He fiddles with the edge of the bandage on his right arm, waiting for Race to get back. With his shirt off, the faded blue scar that marked his side was visible. 

To stop fiddling with the bandage, he traces the scar. It’s faded over the years, it’s no longer as bright as Race’s eyes, but it’s still bright blue and vibrant against his skin. It still offers comfort, just like always, but the top half of the scar is covered in bandages. It stops comforting him, not being able to finish tracing the pattern. 

Race comes in and finds him tracing the visible part of the scar frantically. 

Taking off the bandages on Spot’s chest as fast as he safely can, he checks Spot’s chest while Spot traced the scar. Cleaning the gash, he waited for Spot to calm down before re-wrapping his chest. 

Race gently unwraps one of Spot’s arms, checking the pink lines on the underside of his arm. They were healing well, but Race re-wrapped it just in case and repeated the process with the other arm. 

Spot notices the numerous brown lines on Race’s own forearm and dots on the base of his neck. Matching his own pale scars. He was the cause of those marks. He was the reason Race’s parents had to watch their little kid be slowly covered in cigarette burns and slashes from glass and knives.

Spot felt tears run down his face before he could stop them. 

He tried to wipe them away, but they refused to stop. And then he was wrapped in warm arms, comforting and safe. And he cried, because that was the only reaction he knew. 

Once he’s calmed down from the meltdown, he lets himself be held. And he feels he has to say something.

“I’m sorry.”

Race tightens his grip on Spot. “There is nothing to be sorry for.”

Spot remains quiet after that, knowing Race’s words weren't true, but too terrified of losing him if he said so. 

Race eventually gets up, and Spot stays where he is. He doesn't know what to do, and the pressure is building up again, and- 

Race offers his hand to Spot. “Would you like to… Um.... Like, share the bed? Nothing NSFW, just, like-”

Spot nods and takes Race’s hand. Race smiles.

They both crawl under the covers. They start out on opposite sides of the bed, too nervous to move closer, but eventually they both give in and move to the middle. Facing each other, Race cautiously puts an arm around Spot. Spot responds by nervously putting an arm around Race.

They cuddle the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I feel terrible about how long this took me. But I'm proud, so have it. 
> 
> Yeet or neet at me on tumblr: https://just-gimme-half-a-cup.tumblr.com/
> 
> Also: I'm going off personal experience and what I've read/gathered when writing Spot. The meltdown is from personal experience, but I'm calling them what they are here, not tantrums.
> 
> Edit: This just passed 600 hits as I'm writing this. As of right now there are 607 hits, 67 kudos, 33 comments, and 3 bookmarks.
> 
> Thank you all so much. This means the world to me. 
> 
> As a celebration, I will try and draw single digit Spot. Because I love him and want him to be happy, I swear.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short but cute.

Race wakes up in the morning to sniggering from the doorway. He’s facing the doorway, and when he raises his head he sees his brothers and sister giggling. As is his mother. And she has her phone out.

“Mama!”

Spot stirs, cracking one warm brown eye opened. “Huh?”

Race glares at his family, who skedaddle. Spot yawns and shifts a little under the blankets, and he looks more awake now. Race shifts around so he’s back under the covers, and Spot shifts a little closer. 

Race smiles. “We have school you know.”

Spot nods. “I know. But school doesn’t get in until 9 anyways.”

Race glances at the clock. “It’s almost 8.”

Spot is up in less then a second. “We have to get ready!”

Race sits up, confused. “Spot, we have over half and hour.”

Spot nods. “But it’s better to get ready soon.”

Race sighs, because Spot has a point, and gets up too. “You are going to make me stop procrastinating, aren’t you.” Race worded it as a statement, but Spot rubbed it in by nodding, smirking.

Race sighs, pulling on a good shirt. Spot pulls on his own shirt, a T-shirt that exposes his bandaged arms. Then he pulls on a sweatshirt and the bandages are hidden again.

The boys said goodbye as they walked out the door almost a hour later, Race’s mom hugging both boys. At the bus stop, Spot very hesitantly scoots close to Race. Race smiles at the short boy and takes his hand in his own. 

They stand like that until the bus comes, and they sit next to each other, Spot by the window and Race by the aisle, leaning on each other and almost falling back asleep. They’re woken from their doze by the harsh stop of the bus at the school. 

They share their first class and completely disregarded the seating chart to sit next to each other when they normally are on opposite sides of the class. The class is small enough that the seating chart had been discarded ages ago though.

Through the morning they walk each other to classes and hold hands whenever possible, but the only class they share is their first one, and the only time they would see each other the next day in school was lunch. 

So they were very clingy on the way to lunch.

They sit down at the group’s table, where some of the group are already seated. Mike is flirting with Jojo, Ike with Finch. Mike and Ike are very flirty, especially with their soulmates. Buttons is doodling on his forearm, two colored eyes glaring in concentration (He has two different bonds, one for each soulmate).

Race and Spot sit down with their lunches (Tacos) as everyone else filters in.

Jack is the first to notice the two holding hands. They weren’t being discreet about it, not in the least, but Jack is observant where the rest of their friends aren’t. He frantically signs something too fast for Race to make out before remembering English. “You two are together?” He asks, looking between the two.

They both nod. 

Jack blinked before glancing down at Spot’s arms. Race squeezs Spot’s hand gently, but Spot lets go. Hiding his arms in his sleeves, he glances down at his barely touched food. Race glares at Jack before trying to rest his hand on Spot’s shoulder. “Spot-”

Spot flinches away, before getting up and leaving. 

Race watches him go, not sure if he should follow. Jack drops his head on the table. “I’m a idiot.”

Davey grabs him by the back of his shirt and hauls him upright. “You are, but now we have to figure out how to fix this.”

Race looks at his own arms covered by a long sleeved shirt. “Yha, we’s soulmates. And now he probably hates me.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

Spot felt a mixture of betrayed, scared, and something he didn’t know. He had hidden himself in the closest bathroom, locking the door to a stall. Race had shown the lines to his friends, he probably should have known that would happen, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

It was his second best kept secret, or at least it had been.  
When the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, Spot slipped out of the bathroom and down the hall, neatly avoiding anyone he knew for the rest of the day.

Spot is very good at staying hidden when he doesn’t want to be found. 

Rushing onto his bus at the end of the day, he avoids all further conversation with any of his friends. And as he doesn’t have a phone, no one can bother him once he’s home.

He hides up in his room as soon as his chores are done, not bothering to try and keep the door closed. 

His room is only a bed, and a dresser. He uses the dresser as a bookshelf.

The walls are his least favorite color, dull yellow, and the carpet was put in in the 70’s and never got changed. It’s the ugliest room in the house, which is why it’s Spot’s. His two older brothers got their pick of rooms, and the last bedroom is given to his younger sister, who’s barely six months old.

For a few amazing hours, Spot is alone with his books. He reads better than most of teachers, because he fell in love with books and has been reading since he was little. 

Most of the books are about soulmates, or sappy romance novels (Something no one can ever find out about), but he has a few Rick Riordan books. He’s engrossed in Magnus Chase and The Gods of Asgard, The Hammer of Thor, when he hears his parents get home. 

He closes the book as fast as he can without noise and slides it under his pillow, and hurries downstairs. 

Spot’s parents are far from poor. They aren’t rich, but they aren’t poor. 

Spot likens them to the elves of Alfhime, obsessed with perfection. 

Spot, being a master at getting places unseen, is in the kitchen before his parents get there. His mother is holding baby Allie, who gurgles at Spot happily. Spot can’t show any reaction, he’s not supposed to be around Allie.

“It’s Mike’s half-birthday tonight, make enough Mac&Cheese for everyone.” His mother says to Spot, speaking like he’s a hired servant and not her own son. No, ‘Hi honey’ or ‘How was your day?’. Not even addressing him by his name.

Spot nods meakly. “Yes Mom.”

“And wash your hands! I don’t want Allie getting sick.”

“Yes Mom.”

Spot does as he’s told. He gets the biggest pot he can find, knowing his football player brothers will eat at minimum half the pot. He gets the next largest pot and starts raman, knowing it’s not only Mike and his other brother, Jared’s, favorite, but it’s also his own and maybe if he makes enough they'll be enough for him left over. 

He times it so that the Raman is done cooking just as he finishes draining the Mac&Cheese. Spot’s been doing this long enough to know how long it takes Raman to cook in that pot. 

Heating up something green to balance out everything, he starts serving up the plates. The smell of Mac&Cheese lures Mike from wherever he was. His eyes go round when he sees the raman. “Dude, is that entire plate for me?”

Spot nods, pouring on some greens. 

Mike waits until Spot’s done with the plate before taking it. “Thanks Sean.”

Spot shrugs, moving on to the next plate. Mike is the oldest, and the kindest. Jared is the opposite. 

He shoves Spot when he swaggers into the kitchen. “Hey retard.”

Spot tries not to show how much it affects him. 

“So, lil’ Seany made stuff? Better not get me sick with what you have. Or Allie.”  
Jared sneeres. Spot tries to make himself look Jared in the eyes, but he can’t. Jared shoves him away from the plate. Spot doesn’t bother trying to fight back. 

He finishes his parent’s and Allies plates without further interruption, before making his own. Raman is left, and he gladly takes a chuck to put on his own plate. He inches to the table, sitting down as far from the rest of his family as he can and wolfing down his food as fast as he can. 

His mother is feeding Allie, but Allie keeps on waving at Spot. She’s having none of the food. 

Spot keeps his eyes on his food.

Eventually everyone finishes up their dinners and cake is had, Spot getting a small slice (A rare treat).

The family is in the living room, Spot reading, Mike sketching something in a small sketchbook, and Jared asleep on the couch. Allie crawls to the base of the chair Spot is curled up in and tries to get his attention. Spot remains firmly focused on the book.

“Hey, Allie, come over here!” Mike calls, saving Spot from the situation. 

Allie crawls over. Spot doesn’t look up from his book. He can feel his father’s eyes on him, the feeling is familiar. Spot has an idea of what’s going to happen after Allie goes to bed.

He mentally starts apologising to Race for the inevitable new brown marks that will show up in a few hours.

And sure enough, when Race looks in the mirror that night before going to sleep he sees new lines on his arms and new dots on his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... Kudos and comments? Tell me you hated it?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's short but it's angsty. Jeez this feels sooo short.

Race pokes the brown dots and lines, hoping at least one was just a smudge of dirt. None rub away. 

He sinks to the ground, crying quietly, staring at the new brown marks. This was all his fault, he had scared Spot away, he wasn’t safe. He had promised every time a dot popped up would multiply his love for his soulmate. Every line was a silent promise of love.

And he had failed. 

Eventually he runs out of tears. So he forces himself up and into his bed. And even though they had only shared a bed once, the bed felt too big. He texts the group chat, needing some kind of comfort from his friends.

‘More marks. Dots + Lines, one small one on my face.’ -Racecat

A few seconds later Jack and Davey responded. 

‘U okay?’ -Santaboi

‘Race, tell your parents!’ -DaveyJacobs

Race sets down the phone, knowing he should take David’s advice. But he can’t. Because then he would have to admit that he failed the person he had sworn to protect, to his parents. And he knew that they would hold him and comfort him. 

He gets up, shuffling downstairs.  
His parents see the brown marks on his neck and wrap him in hugs. Race starts to cry again because Spot must be hurting so badly.

“I’ll bring him back with me.” Race says into the hug. 

The next morning Race waits for lunch like it’s the last day of school, but there’s no trace of Spot. Mush says that he was in class, and Race gets increasingly worried as the day wears on with no trace of Spot.

He’s starting to panic when Mush says Spot never came back to class after lunch. What if he’s home, what if his chest reopened? 

Race panics as he continues to not see Spot at the end of the day. No one had seen him since before lunch. 

That night Race watches his skin, and his parents tell him his back is criss-crossed with brown and the back of his neck and shoulders are covered in brown dots. 

Race doesn’t need anyone to tell him when the neat slices start on his upper arms and thighs. 

He cries into his pillow that night.

The next day he comes to school red eyed. Albert pulls him into a hug, Jack on the other side until the entire group is in on the hug.

Race takes a shuddering breath. “We need a plan. If he's in school today, he’s hurt real bad.” The dots on the back of his neck are on full display, meaning they would be on Spot's neck too.

They come up with a plan of action. If anyone sees Spot they get him to the Nurse and make sure he stays there before texting anyone to say they found him.

Race searches for him in first period, but he’s not there. He’s nowhere in second, or third, or lunch. And Spot remains gone for days. Mush says he isn’t in his class either. 

Race is starting to give up hope, the only way he can tell Spot is alive is the new marks that routinely show up. 

The cut on his chest gets bigger, his arms and legs are slowly being covered in lines. The dots have moved down his arm and back.

Race starts losing hope. All because he messed up so badly. 

Days turn into almost a week before there’s a heavy knock on the door at 7pm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger! No but seriously, the next part and this part needed to be separated.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First kisses, hospitals, a start into the investigation, and cuddling. And another of Spot's secrets being found out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished the chapter!

Race got the door, and in the doorway where two bloody teenagers and a baby.

He didn’t even get a good look at them before ushering them inside. “Mom!”

Race’s mother came out from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel, drops the towel. “Oh lord.”

Spot, someone who looks like a bigger version of him, and a baby in a yellow onesie stand in the hallway. Spot was bruised, his nose bloody. It had covered the front of his sweatshirt. His brother (Race was assuming) had a busted lip. The baby was blood free, thankfully, but it was clutching a tiny handful of shirt from Spot’s brother’s shirt in one hand and Spot’s finger (Still attached to his hand, which was still attached to the rest of him) in the other. 

Race’s mother ushered the trio onto the couch, Race next to Spot and trying to get him to say something, anything.

Spot’s brother was talking with Race’s mother. “I’m Mike, Sean’s older brother. This is Allie, she’s our little sister.”

Race’s mom sat and listened as Mike explained what had happened, Race wasn’t really paying attention. Spot was looking at his feet, bluntly refusing to meet Race’s eyes. 

Race knew where Spot had open wounds, but to get to the bigger ones he needed Spot’s shirt off. And Spot doesn’t seem keen on taking off his shirt.

“Spot-”

“No. Not with Allie right here.” Spot cuts Race off. Allie whimpers, gripping Spot's finger tighter.

“Spot, your back needs stitches at least!” Race insists. 

“Allie’s seen enough, she doesn't need to see my back.”

“Can we go somewhere where she can't see?” 

Spot nods, gently removing his finger from Allie's grasp. Allie whimpers, reaching for Spot, and Race can see it's breaking Spot's heart.

But they still sit on Race's bed, Spot shirtless and Race trying to clean Spot's wounds. 

“What even can cause this?” Race asks.

“Glass pane.”

Race pales, checking the gashes more closely for any traces of glass. He sees glass everywhere now that he's looking for it. 

“Spot, you need a hospital.”

Spot shrugs, and Race sighs. “Turn around so I can get a good look at your chest.”

Spot turns around and lets Race clean the wound. It's gotten bigger, it's location not doing it any favors.

Things fall apart when Race reaches for Spot's hand.

Spot yanks his hands to his chest, far away from Race's. It hurts, a lot. And Race’s poker face slips. What could he expect, he’s the reason Spot is hurt.

He looks up, startled, when Spot offers Race his hand. He’s avoiding eye contact, pretty normal for Spot, but he's doing he's never seen him do before.

Carefully, Race looks at Spot's arms. Some of the lines have re-opened, leaving the state of Spot's legs in question.

Race pulls his hand away from Spot's arm. Spot momentarily leans forward, almost chasing the touch. 

Race stops his movements and lets Spot decide what’s going to happen next. Gingerly, Spot leans forward.

Race does to.

They meet in the middle in a soft kiss, before hugging. Race can feel Spot shaking, and he tries to comfort him.

When they go back downstairs, Spot is dressed in a pair of Race's pajama pants and one of Race's long sleeved shirts.

Allie reaches for him, and Mike hands her to him. “Support her head, there you go!”

Allie fists her hands in Spot's shirt, stubbornly refusing to let go. Spot's expression says everything. Race sits next to him, noting the similarities between Allie and Spot. And then when Mike sits down, Mike.

They all look so much alike. The same hair and the faintest hints of freckles that would probably grow darker as summer approaches. They all share the same colored hair, though Mike's is much curlier than Spot and Allie, who have almost straight hair.

Allie is also a little darker in skin tone then her brothers, but they all share the exact same eyes.

That is the fastest way to find relatives, Race has found. And there is no way these three aren't related.

Race's Mom smiles softly. Race smiles at Spot, who smiles back. 

Somehow the baby bucket (Retrieved from the attic) with Allie in it made the ride to the hospital more bearable. It was probably Allie making faces at him and Spot.

It was the hospital that was the most worrying. Waiting in the ER was nothing new for Race (He had a little brother), but from the way the Conlon brothers were acting, it was likely they weren't in the hospital often.

When they call in Spot, Race and Mike go with him while Race's Mom stays outside with Allie, who has fallen asleep.

Turns out Spot really, really hates doctors.

He bluntly refuses to let the doctor anywhere near his hands, and tensing at every touch. Spot needs stitches for some of the cuts on his back after cleaning out the glass. The gash on his chest was deemed already healing nicely, so that was just wrapped again. Pictures of the scars on his back, ribs and shoulders are taken.

Race has to do the bandaging on Spot's arms. Thankfully the cuts are easily covered by bandages, but most of the more recent cuts require stitches. Which Race knows how to do. 

The doctors speak to Race’s mom. Race and Spot are huddled together on a bench, Mike and Allie on the next bench over. Spot is starting to drift off on Race’s shoulder, when Race’s mom comes back. Her face is grim. “Boys, the police want to talk to you.”

Sure enough, the police are arriving at the hospital. Spot is still asleep, Race’s arm around him. A woman and a man enter in suits. Both are clearly police. The woman looks harsh, with dark hair and eyes, and her partner looked equally stern, though his hair is grey with age.

“Hi, I’m Detective Felope. This is my partner Detective Harmor. We need to ask you kids a few questions.” The woman, Detective Felope, says. Race held Spot a little tighter. 

“I’ll answer as many questions as I can, I’m Sean’s brother.” Mike says.  
“I answer a couple to.” Race adds on.

The detectives look at each other and shrug. Detective Felope pulls out a notepad. “How old was Sean when the abuse started?”

Mike and Race reply at the same time. “Seven.”

Mike elaborates. “That was the first time I saw Mom and Dad hit him, it was about two days after his diagnoses.”

The detectives and Race look confused. “With what?” Race asks.

Mike glances at his little brother before replying. “Autism. Mom and Dad are perfectionists, Sean didn’t fit the image of the upper-middle class family with three sons.”

A lot suddenly clicks in Race’s brain. Why Spot was in the Special Ed class, the avoidance of eye contact, the random excitement and why he stopped, how nervous he was when someone tried to touch his hands. It all suddenly makes so much sense.

The detectives look at each other. Race can feel something in the air change. 

Detective Harmore asks the next question. “Do your parents abuse all three of you, or just Sean?”

Mike shakes his head. “First time they’ve ever hit me, Jared’s never been touched that I know of, and they’ve never laid a hand on Allie.”

The detectives nod and ask more questions. Mike and Race respond to the best of their abilities until Spot wakes up. Then they ask him the questions. 

Race can see Spot tensing, so he tries to comfort him. It works to an extent. Race is still glad to see the detectives go. 

Spot loses the tension in his shoulders. “Can we go back to your place?” He asks meekly.

Race nods. “We can go back to mine.”

They pile back into the car, Allie in the baby bucket and Mike in shotgun. It’s quiet, Spot almost falls asleep on Race again. Race’s mom puts on some quiet music, a soundtrack to something, and it fills the car with something other then silence. 

Once they do get home, Race helps Spot up the stairs. Mike wanted the couch, and Allie got the old nursery room (That was usually occupied by Race’s sister’s son when she and her wives were staying over). Spot didn’t look sure what he was supposed to be doing, but Race crawled under the covers and held them open for Spot. And Spot crawled in next to him.

Race cautiously wrapped an arm around Spot. Spot wrapped an arm around him and buried his face in Race’s chest.

And that was how Race’s mother and Mike found them the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will probably mostly focus on the investigation and how Spot deals with Race knowing about his Autism, and then Race being great and asking Blink for any advice. (Mush went through the same stuff as Spot, albeit for a shorter time)
> 
> Edit:
> 
> In celebration of me finishing a chapter, I'm taking questions and asks! Check me out on Tumblr, https://just-gimme-half-a-cup.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> My ask box is open, so ask away! I will also answer questions about possible spinoffs.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would say I'm sorry for hurting Spot more but the next chapter is Race trying to make Spot's life easier soo.....
> 
> Also: Contains spoilers for Captain America: Winter Solider so if you have somehow avoided seeing that movie you. Have. Been. Warned.

Spot wakes up slowly, one eye at a time, but finds he really does not want to move. Where he is is warm, smells nice, and comforting. He never wanted to move again.

But then the source of warmth moved. And Spot remembered where he was and who the person next to him was. It was Race, he had gone back to Race’s house after the hospital… 

The night’s events rush back at him. The fight, getting in between Mike and his parents, getting the shit beaten out of him. Allie crying, Mike grabbing them both and running out the door. Spot’s breath hitches. ‘No no please not now, I can’t cry’

The tears are already rolling down his face. 

He sniffles, burying his face in Race’s chest as the boy in question wakes up. 

“Spot? Spot what’s wrong?” Race asks, holding him a little closer.

Spot can’t respond, words won’t come out around the sobs. Race holds him close and rubs comforting circles into his back. Slowly, the sobs slow down and Spot is left shaking in Race's arms.

Race holds him close, whispering caring words. Words Spot finds himself slowly, maybe accepting as true for the moment. But that doesn't mean he deserves them.

He pulls away from Race, turning over. He tries not to think about Race's face, the disappointment.

“I'm sorry.” Spot whispers, almost too softly for Race to hear. But Race does hear, because he’s amazing and way too good for Spot.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Race says softly, and Spot can hear the sincerity. It feels so amazing, someone giving him unconditional love. Someone giving a damn and having given a damn for years.

Spot turns back over, brown eyes brimming with tears again. “Why do you care about what happens to me?”

Race smiles softly. “Because you are an amazing person, and smart, and exciting and just generally someone I want to spend as much time as I can with.”

Spot nods, curling back into Race's chest. Race's hands gently flit over his back, checking that the movements haven't re-opened or strained anything. Spot knows it's just Race, that he's only trying to help, but it doesn't stop the flinches.

Race doesn't seem to mind. He whispers comforts to Spot, assuring him nothing is going to happen and asking him to say if something hurts.

Spot isn't sure anyone has ever been this kind to him. 

Eventually Race seems satisfied. Nothing is stretched or pulled, and there is no fresh blood to speak of anywhere on Spot's back.

Slowly, Race's hands move down Spot's arms. Spot moves his hands so they're in a better position, and Race checks each individual mark. 

Nothing is bleeding, nothing is new.

Spot nestles closer to Race, his hand accidentally brushing Race's curly hair. The texture is new, but feels nice. And he can't have it. Spot moves his hands to his sides, absentmindedly tracing the blue scar and finding the texture of the shirt is unpleasant. Really unpleasant, how is he still wearing this. He needs one of his shirts, the ones that don't feel like this. 

He wiggles out of the bed to find the shirt he’s pretty sure he left here. Race sits up, worried. “Spot?”

“I, uh, I need another shirt.” How is he going to cover this up. “Erm, the… The back has a ton of blood on it. I think I left my shirt around here somewhere.”

Race nods. “Mom put it in the laundry, it should be out by now. I’ll go check.”

Spot stayed, removing the shirt and instantly feeling better. He hadn't realized how uncomfortable that had felt. But once he had his shirt things would be better. 

Race entered the room, holding the shirt Spot had left. Spot pulled it on slowly, relishing the fabric. It genuinely felt nice against his skin.

Race smiles. “You look great when you're happy.”

Spot looks down sheepishly. 

Race smiles. “Wanna go back downstairs? We can watch the second Captain America movie.”

Spot looks up. “There's two? Let's watch it! Please?” Spot smiles.

Race nods and the two head downstairs. Mike is already up and holding Allie. “G’mornin!” He says good naturedly. Spot nods in response. 

Mike is seated on the couch, but gets shoved to one end by Race and Spot. Race tracks down Winter Soldier and puts it on. The three boys are engrossed in the movie very quickly. Tommy walks by and squishes himself between Race and Mike. 

Spot, just like the previous times, gets very excited. Bouncing up and down, and then, again, a simple twitch of his hands and he stops dead. He can't let them see. He can't let Race see any more of his baggage.

But he repeats his cycle. What else can he do? 

It's not hard to get excited over the movie though.

“HE’S SO COOL RACE LOOK AT CAP!!!!”

“I love Natasha.”

“Why did no one just kill Sitwell already? This is the perfect opportunity just shoot him.”

“Ug, bad flirting.”

“Did. You. See. That.”

“HE HAS A METAL ARM HOW COOL IS THAT!!!!”

“I hate this part.”

“Okay, just, look. Admire the perfection of this scene.”

“DAMNIT ZOLA!” “Spot there's a baby!” “DARNIT ZOLA!!” “Better.”

“Why is he so creepy.”

“Holy fudging crow it's Bucky!”

“I love Sam.”

“Woot Agent Hill!”

“He LIVES!!”

“I knew I couldn't trust him.”

“This. This is just amazing.”

Spot is quietly crying at the end of the movie. It's just so good. 

By the end Spot is still vibrating. “That was one of the best movies ever.” The others all nod with the exception of Allie. Allie fell asleep. 

Mike takes Allie upstairs to the nursery. Tommy gets bored and wanders off. Leaving Spot and Race on the couch by themselves.

About 15 minutes later Race speaks. “So, um, last night Mike said something.”

Spot's brain went to the worst case scenario. 

“You have autism?”

Shit. Chicken horse cow shit. Chicorsow shit. 

“Spot?”

“Yha-yha. I do.”

Spot fully expects rejection, to be forced away again. For some kind of strike. And when Race lays a gentle hand on him, warm and comforting, Spot flinches away. The high point a few minutes ago is gone, he’s waiting for what he’s sure is going to happen.

There’s only so good one person can be.

Race rests a hand on his knee. Spot takes a sharp breath, bracing himself. 

“Spot, I would never hurt you.” Race says softly. Spot wanted Race to hug him, to say everything would be okay. But Race didn’t. Even he couldn’t read minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: https://just-gimme-half-a-cup.tumblr.com/
> 
> Yell at me/ask me stuff there.
> 
> Quick note: I have a Punk!Davey AU in the works so keep an eye on my feed/Tumblr prompts and one-shots.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is short but sweet-ish.

Race wasn’t sure how to help Spot now. This added on a ton more things he needed to be careful about. And it explained so much, given what Mush had said about their old school and how they treated the autistic kids. 

But he was still Spot, and Spot still liked the same things. Including some physical contact. 

“Is it okay if I hug you?” Race asks carefully. Spot nods, leaning into Race. Race hugged him tightly. 

They stay like that for a few hours before Race’s mom calls for Lunch. She’s broken out the old high-chair for Allie. Spot sits next to Race as he pokes at his sandwich. Race tries to get him to eat it, but Spot just shakes his head. 

Race devours his sandwich, as does everyone else besides Spot. 

Race has yet to learn Spot’s habits, so he wasn’t sure if Spot was genuinely not hungry or if he was nervous. Or if it meant something else entirely. 

Spot tugs at Race's shirt sleeve. “Can we go upstairs?” He asks quietly. He’s looking at the floor, but Race has come to understand it's part of what Spot does. Mush does the same thing, not liking eye contact. 

He still needs to message Blink.

Race nods. “Sure.”

Apparently Spot really wanted to cuddle, because once they're both in the bed Spot buries his face in Race’s chest and doesn't move. This works out pretty well, because Race can text Blink and comfort Spot at the same time.

'Hey Blink, I need help.’ -Racecat

'With what?’ -CaptianBlink

'Spot is here, and I need help.’ -Racecat

'Shit I’m coming over’ -CaptianBlink

'No!’ -Racecat  
'I just need advice.’ -Racecat

'On what?’ -CaptianBlink

'Did you know about Spot and, you know,’ -Racecat

'How could I not? You want to know the best ways to help him?’ -CaptianBlink

'Yes.’ -Racecat

'Treat him like a normal person. He brain works differently, he’s not a different person.’ -CaptianBlink

'I know that. But, I don't know. What do you do with Mush?’ -Racecat

'I treat him like everyone else. I pay attention when he talks about stuff he loves, that's a big one.’ -CaptianBlink

'Thank you!!’ -Racecat

'I’m not done Race.’ -CaptianBlink  
'Don’t try to stop him from stimming, it's important. Don't grab his hands either.’ -CaptianBlink

'I already figured that out. Thanks anyways Blink, this is actually really helpful.’ -Racecat

Spot mumbles something into Race’s chest. Race looks down. “Hm?”

“Nothing.”

Race lets it go. Spot sighs and moves a little closer. Race can’t complain, after a lifetime of worry having Spot right here in his arms is something he would love to do for forever. 

The world had other plans. 

Race’s mom opens the door. “Boys? The police are here, they want to talk to you both.”

Spot doesn’t move at first, staying still until Race moves. He doesn’t seem happy about having to talk to the police again, but who would be.

Mike is sitting on one end of the couch, leaving the rest of the couch for Spot and Race. 

It’s the same detectives from last night. Joined by one other person, a younger guy. They watch Race and Spot with pity, instantly putting Race on the defense. Spot doesn’t seem to notice, he is strictly focused on the floor. 

Once the three boys are seated on the couch, the questions start. 

“Hi again. So, we have questions for you all. Sean-”

“Spot.” Spot corrects. Race and Mike glare at the police, daring them to go against the statement.

“Okay, Spot. We need you to tell us what happened last night.”

Spot recounts the story. It had been a pretty average night, Spot had made dinner. But he had messed up on the spices, and his shit parents had decided that was worthy of punishment.

Mike had tried to step in, gotten hit, Spot had intervened and gotten more shit kicked out of him. 

Mike had scooped up Spot and Allie and run. 

And that's where Spot's story ends. Mike confirms. Race adds in what he knows. 

The police ask a few more questions, but not many. Mostly routine stuff. 

When they leave everyone sighs in relief. Spot gets up and walks upstairs, Race tries to follow but Mike stops him. “I think he needs to be alone right now. People tire him out.”

Race nods, but that doesn’t stop how jittery he is. 

Spot doesn’t come back down for a few hours, not that Race is counting. When he does he seemingly ignores all attempts at conversation and curls up in a ball in between Race and Mike and falls back asleep. Race refrains from playing with Spot’s hair. 

Spot is wearing a oversized sweatshirt again, one of Race's. Everything seems perfectly fine, until Race glances at his arm and sees a new, warm brown line. And a few older ones are once again their original color.

Gently Race shakes Spot awake. Spot looks up groggily. “Hm?”

“Wanna go upstairs? We need to talk about something.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mid-sized fight, and Spot and Mike bond.

Spot feels a pit of dread form in his stomach. He knows where this was probably going, and he doesn't like it. 

Not at all. 

Race pulled him into the bathroom and pulled the sweatshirt sleeve up. Three fresh lines on Spot’s forearm. He winces, pulling his arm away. “Race,”

“No. Spot, I didn’t want this conversation now but now is has to happen.”

“You can’t make me!” Spot plays a desperate last card. He doesn’t want to think Race would, but he can’t put it past anyone. It’s been pulled by too many people. 

“You’re right, I can’t. But I can ask you, because I want to help!”

Spot pulls away. “No, I don’t want to talk right now.” Spot slides his arms out of the sleeves of the sweatshirt and hides them against his body. “Please, can we talk later? Just, I can’t talk about this right now. Please, Race.”

Race sighed. Spot feels a sinking sensation in his stomach. “I’m sorry, Race. I really am.” 

Race reaches out to pull Spot into a hug, but Spot pulls away. He goes back downstairs without another word, brushing past Race. Mike is slouched on the couch, but he looks up when Spot enters. “Sea- Spot?” 

Spot sits on the couch next to Mike, arms still hidden in the sweatshirt, and pulls his knees up to his chest. Pulling the sweatshirt over his knees, he’s hidden everything but his head and his feet. Mike goes to wrap an arm around him, but stops when Spot tenses. 

“You like soulmates, right?” Mike asks.

Spot nods. Mike smiles. “How many kinds’a bonds are there?”

“The last time I checked the number is over 1,000. That was a few months ago though.”

“Is there a kind where you have a big colored mark somewhere on your body?”

Spot looked up, thinking. “No, not that I know of. Why?”

Mike pulls up his shirt, the movement attracting Spot’s attention. A large, jade green mark runs over his abdomen and chest. It vaguely resembles a big cat, but it still strongly resembles a blob. “It showed up a couple months ago-” Mike starts to explain, but Spot interrupts. 

“When you turned 17, not that uncommon. But this is new, I’ve never seen that kind before. Colors are usually eye color, aura, I think that there’s even one-”

“Spot, can I finish?” Mike asks gently. Spot looks down. 

“Yha, please, continue.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Mike smiles at him. It doesn’t make Spot feel much better. “It showed up on my 17th birthday, but it’s changed since then. It’s, I dunno. Turning into a shape.”

Spot thinks long and hard. “I don’t remember anything about anything like that. I think this is brand new.” Spot’s eyes light up. “This is so cool! We gotta document this, maybe it’s a whole new branch!” 

Spot’s mind jumps to all the possibilities. He uncurls from under the sweatshirt.

“Well my plan to make you feel better worked.” Mike laughs. Allie starts crying upstairs. Mike and Spot glance at each other. “Wanna come along?” He asks.

Spot’s eyes widen. “Really?”

Mike nods, getting up. Spot follows quickly. 

15 minutes later the brothers had their sister downstairs on the couch with them, trying to calm her. She decided that no, she was not doing to be put down. Spot is holding her when the door bursts open. “Higgens! We’re here to- Oh. Hi Spot.” Katherine says noticing the baby and the jock also on the couch. “What are you doing with a baby? Especially with Mike…. How did I not draw the connection earlier.” Kath slouches. Sarah sighs and guides her to a chair.

“Sorry, she likes putting things together before anyone else.” Sarah apologises for her soulmate. David and Jack enter next, though Jack reluctantly. Blink and Mush after them. 

“Hi Spot!” Mush says sitting on the couch. Blink sits next to him, content. Before Race even has a chance to come downstairs the guests are spread across the living room. Race’s mother comes inside from where she had been hanging laundry. She surveys her living room, assessing the situation. 

“I’m making a lot of spaghetti tonight, aren’t I.” She said it with such finality that it was probably a common occurence to be feeding this many teenagers. 

Sarah is the one who puts on the first movie (Die Hard) but it’s vetoed by David and Jack. “One, it’s not even close to Christmas,” Jack points out.

“And two,” David says, “There’s a impressionable baby in our midst.”

Sarah grumbles but let Kath pick a movie. She picks Real Steel, which is also vetoed. Jack picks Rent, but the remote is wrestled out of his hand before he can hit ‘Play’. David picks a documentary, (Endorsed by Kath,) but the complaining leaves David grumbling. A chorus of “Thanks Mom!”s causes him to steal Jack’s hat and hide under it. The remote ends up in Spot’s hand and he locates Spider Man, Homecoming and puts that on.

No one disputes his pick.

Race creeps downstairs, not escaping Spot’s attention, but he was quickly drawn back in by the movie. Mush isn’t particularly excited about it, but Spot is loving it. He bounces up and down, watching the craziness and fun of the movie. He doesn’t see Race smile at how happy he clearly is. 

Mike notices how Spot sinks back into the couch when his hands flutter. “Spot,”

“No.” Spot says simply, curling back into a ball.

Mike lets the issue lie. 

Race sits next to Spot on the couch, a good distance away. Mike gets up to put a now fast asleep Allie back in the nursery. Real Steel is put on once he gets back, but while they wait Race tries to talk to Spot.

“Spot? Are you still mad at me?”

Spot doesn’t respond.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Race knows he screwed up, and tries to make it better.

Race knows he screwed up. How bad, he isn’t sure. 

He tried talking to Spot, but Spot seemingly ignored him. Mike made a point of sitting between the two. Spot was curled into a ball in a sweatshirt.

But that had been an hour ago.

Spot has since gone upstairs and Race is watching his arms, scared of what kinds of lines may show up. When not lines, but instead crescent shaped marks on his biceps appear, he internally goes into a panic. Scrambling off the couch, he tries to rush up the stairs. Mike grabs ahold of his shirt and pulls him back. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

Race shows him the marks. 

Mike’s grip tightens. “He wants to be alone, if you go up there it’ll just make everything worse.” 

Race bristles. “How?!”  
Mike steers the scrawny sophomore into the kitchen. “Spot is having a meltdown, granted a bad one. If it’s going to stay just a meltdown, we leave him be. He prefers being alone and when he wants someone, he’ll ask. Until then you stay down here. Honestly I’m surprised he lasted this long with how the past few days have gone.”

Race nods mutely. 

“Have we reached an agreement?” Mike looks Race dead in the eye. Mike is scary when he wants to be, Race wonders faintly if Spot is just as scary.

“Yha, yha we have.”

“Good.” Mike leaves him in the kitchen, giving Race time to think.

He sits at the kitchen table for two hours, poking at his dinner when it’s served and only getting up to wave goodbye to his friends. When 8 comes and goes and Spot still hasn’t come down, Race makes plans to sleep in the kitchen. 

Race’s mother waits with him, she’s staying up to wait for Race’s dad, her soulmate, to come home from a long business trip anyways. 

When Mr. Higgens comes in the door, he’s tackled by his wife. “Maria!”

“Rob!”

Mr. Higgens spins with his wife in his arms a few times before kissing her. The stress seems to disappear from them both. Race watches from the kitchen doorway.

His dad notices him. “Tony! Hey bud!” His dazzling smile is definitely something Race inherited. 

“Hi Dad.” Race hugs him. Immediately Rob Higgens knows something is up, Race never just hugged him. There was always a jump or one of those buzz things that give you a slight shock.

“Tony, what’s up?”

“My, uh, soulmate. I found him.”

Again, no ‘You’re gay’. Just concern. “Is he okay? Is he here?”

Race nods. “Upstairs, but be quiet? He’s not big on people.”

Race’s dad nods. “Okay. I’m just glad he’s safe.”

Race’s mom pops in. “His older brother and baby sister are here to, Mike and Allie. Tony’s soulmate’s name is Spot. Just so you aren’t surprised by the two additional kids in the house.” 

Race’s dad nods, and yawns. “It’s been a long day and we have another one tomorrow from the sound of it. And it’s way past 8. Tony, go brush your teeth.”

Race nods and creeps up the stairs. There’s no sound from his room, but that doesn’t make Race feel any better. He brushes his teeth slowly, wondering if he’s going to have to sleep downstairs, when he hears his door creak open. 

Race finishes up, waiting to hear what Spot does next. 

“Race?” He calls softly.

“In the bathroom.”

Spot waits outside for Race to come out. They stand in the hallway awkwardly, before apologising at the same time.

Race backs off first. “Um, you go first.”

Spot shuffles his feet. “I’m sorry I ignored you, and for running off and probably worrying you. It’s my fault-” He stops, chewing his lip.

Race takes that as his opportunity to apologize. “I’m sorry to. I shouldn’t have pushed you, especially after the day you just had. Is there any way I can make anything better?”

Spot stays perfectly still. “What’dya mean ‘make anything better’? For me?”

“Yha, for you. I messed up, not you.” 

Spot stiffens. “I don’t know.”

Race nods. “You can, uh, have the room if you want. I was going to sleep in the-”

“No. I can sleep somewhere else, it’s your room.”

“You have stitches in your back, you should have the bed.”

“It’s your room.”

Race crosses his arms. “Spot-”

“What if we just share the freaking room. I can take the sleeping bag and you can have the bed.” 

Race blinks. “Is the sleeping bag-”

Spot crosses his arms to. “It’s fine.”

Race can see this is the best he’s going to get. “Fine.”

While Spot brushes his teeth, Race grabs as many blankets as he can and piles them around the sleeping bag. Once he’s satisfied, he crawls into his own bed and pretends to be asleep when Spot enters. He hears some shuffling, probably just Spot getting into the sleeping bag. 

Race lets himself fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we met Race's dad so... That's something. And would anyone go after me with a lynch mob if I wrote a small spinoff from Mike's POV?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot and Race's dad meet.

Spot wakes up slowly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. The nest of blankets that Race set up are still there, though they have been rearranged so that they cover him and form a cocoon. A cave of warmth. All the fluffy blankets had been used for the bottom layer, so Spot has a good idea of who had done it.

The culprit is asleep in his bed without any blankets but a sheet. His blond hair is mussed and he is still fast asleep. Spot figures it’s Sunday. 

He wiggles his way out of the blankets after brute force proved ineffective. Silently creeping down the hall to the stairs and neatly avoiding waking up Mike, who is once again asleep on the couch, he is caught trying to get down cereal by a older man. Spot doesn’t noticed him at first, he is much more concentrated on getting down the Lucky Charms. The smell of cigar smoke right behind him, however, gets his attention. 

Spot whirls around, eyes wide with fear. The man in front of him is tall and lanky, with curly black hair and bright blue eyes. He looks like Race, but the smell of cigars that hangs on him sets Spot on edge. The man also looks surprised to see him. “Hello there, um, who are you?”

Spot doesn’t respond beyond inching away from the counter, struggling not to run. The man follows, trying to start some kind of conversation. “I’m Rob Higgens, Tony’s father. Who may you be?” He sticks out his hand for a handshake, but that’s the last straw for Spot. In a blind flash of panic he takes off back upstairs, slamming the door to Race’s room shut and trying to work the lock. The slam was enough to wake Race up. 

As Spot clicks the lock shut, Race sits up while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Spot? What’s goin-” He was cut off by a terrified Spot jumping onto the bed and holding him protectively. 

Spot isn’t thinking clearly, but he does have a very strong instinct to protect Race and himself. Locked door, protection for him. Race right there in his arms, protection for Race. ‘Don’t panic, must protect’ Is the only clear thought he can find.

Race, strangely enough, is still confused. It should be obvious, at least in Spot’s mind. He’s being protected, people who smoke are bad and have a tendency to put out their cigars on kids. Spot’s protecting Race.

Race apparently doesn’t see it that way. “Spot, tesoro, what’s going on? What scared you?” He awkwardly rubs Spot’s back, the position he’s in making it difficult but doable. 

Spot checks the door before responding. “Some guy is in the house. He smelled like smoke, that means he’s dangerous.”

Race swears. “Cazzo, certo, ci siamo dimenticati di dirtelo.” Race switches back to English. “My Dad got home last night. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and I should have told him to be more careful.” Race carefully rubs Spot’s side. Slowly, Spot starts to relax. Race sits them up gently, and at last Spot lets go. 

“I’m sorry.” Spot says softly. He feels stupid now, he woke Race up and was a clingy ass all because someone smelled like cigars. 

“Spot, it’s okay. It’s completely normal after what happened to you.” Race says, slowly reaching for his hand. Spot meets him halfway. Race’s smile makes him feel a little better. 

Spot glances at the clock and sees it’s almost 10:00am. He doesn’t know when he woke up or when he came back upstairs, but he knows that it had been hours away from 10. He swallows and musters as much courage as he can. “Do you want to go downstairs?”

Race shakes his head. “I’m happy up here with you. I have my phone if you want to put on some music,” Race offers, and Spot lights up.

“Really? You’re the best, Racer!” He bounces while Race grabs his phone from the charger on his nightstand and gives it to him. Spot, after checking if Race’s phone is on the WiFi, turns on YouTube and finds a classic rock mix. 

Spot sings along to the songs he knows and listens with a huge smile to the ones he doesn’t. Race joins when he can. After the mix is up, Spot gives the phone back to Race so he can put on his own favorite songs. He puts on a personal mix, one comprised of a variety of songs.   
Race sings along to them all. It’s the most beautiful thing Spot has ever heard. 

At close to 2, Spot masses his courage and says he’s hungry. With Race, he quietly inches down the stairs and through the living room. Mike has seemingly vacated the couch for the moment, though they run into him in the kitchen trying to feed Allie.

He looks up when they cross the threshold. “Hey sleepyheads.” 

Spot nods nervously. Race helps him get down the cereal and soon the three boys are seated at the table, Race and Mike holding a small conversation about a meaningless topic. 

Tommy’s out with friends, so the teenagers (And baby in a highchair) seemingly have the house to themselves. It’s quiet, and eventually the conversation is moved to the more comfortable living room. Spot, now fully relaxed is leaning into Race’s side and dozing off.

Mrs. Higgens meanders in around 4. Spot is almost asleep by that point, but the accompanying smell of smoke and second pair of footsteps wake him up. He feels his heart start to race, and no matter how much he hurriedly tries to reassure himself that it’s just Race’s dad and there was no chance of getting hurt, he can’t stop. His mind goes into survival mode and in a effort to not be seen, he hides behind Race as much as he can. 

His desperate plea seems to work, the smell of smoke leaves and the footsteps retreat after brief greetings between Race and his parents. Spot slowly edges away from Race, waiting to either to be ignored and free to go away or a summons. 

“Spot? Spot, are you okay?” Race asks, gently laying a hand on Spot’s shoulder. Spot jumps and whirles around. Race retracts his hand quickly. “Spot, are-”

Spot sits stiffly. Ready to run at the first sign of trouble. 

“Spot, Spot it’s okay. You’re safe.” Race tries again.

“Can.. Can we go back upstairs?” Spot asks softly. Race nods and stands up. Spot follows quickly. Once they are in Race’s room, Spot sinks into Race’s arms and hides his face. “Why can’t I be normal?” He asked to no one.

Race guides him to the bed. “It’s okay, Spot.” He sits down with a quivering Spot in his arms, hoping that he’s somehow helping. Spot nestles closer and lets Race rub his back. 

Two hours later Race tucks a very asleep Spot in and heads downstairs to talk to his father. Finding the man isn’t hard, he’s sitting in the living room in the big cushy armchair. He looks up from probably browsing Reddit when Race clears his throat. “Tony? What’s up?”

Race gets right to the point. “Dad, you need to stop smoking.”

Race’s dad looks a little taken aback, but stays silent as Race continues.

“Mom’s been saying it for years. Tera has been saying it for years. I’ve been saying it for years. But now there’s a baby living here, and two teenagers who don’t have good experiences with people who smoke.” Race knows his father knows exactly what he means. 

“Oh god, why didn’t I- Oh god I am so sorry, I didn’t think, that poor boy, no wonder he was terrified!” Race’s father looks terrified. Race’s mother come racing in.

“What’s going on?! Rob, why are you scared?” 

Race feels horrible. He hadn’t meant for this reaction. “I.. I didn’t mean-”

Race’s dad stands. “Maria, I’m quitting smoking. For good this time.” He looks dead set on doing it this time. “And I’m going to go take a shower and then I’m tossing out all my cigars.”

Race’s mom looks a little stunned. “Rob, that’s good and all, but what happened?”

“Tony made me remember that there are kids here with less than happy experiences, and I refuse to hurt them more. Besides, you’ve all been harping me about quitting for years.” Race’s dad says detirmindly. “Now, I’m going to go take a bath and wash this smell off me.”

Race watched his father head upstairs in mild awe and was once again reminded why his dad was his role model. 

A few minutes later Race goes back upstairs to get Spot for dinner (He’s not missing any more meals on Race’s watch). Spot is still fast asleep facing the door and is starting to look like he may have some serious bedhead. Race sits on the bed next to him. “Spotty?”

Spot opened his eyes. “Hm?”

“Dinner.” Race said, and that got Spot up. 

30 seconds later Race is being dragged downstairs as the smell of cooking pasta fills the house. He can’t help but laugh at Spot’s enthusiasm. 

Once Spot discovered no dinner was not ready yet, he tried hanging around the kitchen and helping. When Race’s mom shooed him out, he tried the next closest room, the dining room. Race sat with him, listening to Spot start to ramble on about some random topic he liked. 

It’s peaceful for the moment.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dunno when I can get the next one out, but I can usually get Lines up on Tumblr. Anywho, have fun with this.

Race is finally starting to relax.

Spot and Race’s dad had actually had a real introduction, though Spot was still nervous and Mr. Higgins was trying too hard to get him in a conversation. Spot had escaped the conversation by shoving Race into it.

Now, it’s Monday. And as Race comes downstairs he hears a dull roar of engines and voices. His mother stompes past him, muttering in Italian and uttering swears she would have washed Race’s mouth out for. 

Mike is with her, though he wasn’t swearing. He keeps glaring at the windows that now had blankets hanging over them. 

“Mom, what’s going on?” Race askes, skipping the last two steps. Maria Higgins huffs and points at the door.

“The police leaked about the case. Now we have every media in New York on our front lawn.” She looks furious. Race’s dad is sitting in his armchair stewing. Tommy peeks out the window, only to jump backwards. 

“There’s one of those news hosts out there! Right outside the window!”

Race’s mom stomps her foot hard enough to shake the floor. “I want those people out of my yard and away from you children!” 

Spot stumbles downstairs. “Who’s yelling?” He askes.

“The press got ahold of the case.” Race grumbles. Spot pales. Race can see the gears turning in his head. They need a plan, and now. They can’t go out the front, no way. There is a back door, but the backyard is fenced in. 

Then Race gets a idea. Jack ‘Escape artist’ Kelly. 

He pulls out his phone and texts the group chat.

‘Jack I need your help getting out of the house.’ -Racecat

‘On it. Why?’ -Santaboi

‘Press found out about Spot and Mike.’ -Racecat

‘Can I help?’ -Birdy

‘Master of stealth would like to help’ -GetsomesleevesRodger  
‘Wait who the hell changed my name’ -GetsomesleevesRodger

‘Your darling brother.’ -Ridinginstyle

GetsomesleevesRodger changed their name to Ninja

‘Rodg, that’s kinda stupid.’ -Chinchillaman

‘FU Buttons’ -Ninja 

Chinchillaman changed Ninja’s name to OtherCrutchie

‘That’s even worse.’ -Ridinginstyle

Ridinginstyle changed OtherCrutchie’s name to ResidentCryptid

Race turned off his phone before he could get more invested in that conversation. “We have a way out of here without getting seen.” 

Race can see the relief on Spot’s face. He still looks scared, because he doesn’t have any work, it had all been left at home. But the stress of facing a bunch of people yelling questions is off his shoulders. 

Jack Kelly does not disappoint. He appears (Race swears he had teleportation powers or something) five minutes later with Rodger and Finch. Rodger’s arms are covered in doodles as per usual, and he has his eyepatch on. He leans against the fence behind a winded Jack. Finch is, like normal, a bundle of smiles. He sits perched on the top of the fence. 

“Spotty! Racer! C’mon, we got fences to hop and old people to make crazy.” Jack says, helping Spot over the fence that Race scales easily. Finch jumps down and Rodger vaults over the fence, Jack following after. 

It takes a few extra minutes, but they get to school on time. Jack and Finch have first period together, and Rodger had his first class in the direction of Spot and Race’s, so the group split in two. 

School brings looks and random people coming up and throwing a pity party as they walked. Spot flips his hood up, trying to look as intimidating as possible. Adults were not to be messed with, but Spot Conlon had been a feared name in his old school. 

Spot is intimidating, he knows that. He simply hasn’t had to use it until now. People stop coming up to him as he walks to second period without Race. 

When Lunch comes, he happily sits next to Race and dozes. He’s tired, people and acting tough and gym take their toll. He really doesn’t want Lunch to end as soon as it does. But, it happens. 

As he waves goodbye and gives Race a goodbye hug, he finds his path blocked. Three big wrestlers block his path, with their arms crossed. Spot gets ready to possibly fight his way out of this, but it proves unnecessary. They get out of his way. 

It’s down the hall and halfway to his next class that he’s stopped again by a bunch of tall girls who are probably supposed to be cheerleaders. Spot is extremely confused as to why they stopped him until they get up in his face and try to move his sweatshirt. 

Spot panics and shoves his way out of the gaggle of girls. Panicking, he tries to find somewhere he can hide. Class be damned, he’s not going to learn anything anyways. Finding a unused closet, he tucks himself into the small space and hides until the end of the day. 

Even then, he keeps his hood up and finds Race as soon as he can. He knows Race will ask what happened, he’s probably already worried or disappointed. Spot can’t make himself care too much, he’s tired and stressed and just wants to hide for the rest of the week. 

Race is worried, all day. If the press knows then the school knows, and that could mean Spot getting harrased. There were some girls at the school who treated some of the other students like zoo animals. They were only here while their fancy school was rebuilt. 

Race and his friends had been on the receiving end of their curiosity a few times.

Race got worried after he didn’t meet Spot halfway to the hallway their next classes shared. He got more and more worried as Spot continued to turn up missing.

Fears he didn’t know he had were confirmed when he checked his sleeves and saw several lines had been flushed with color where they had once been neatly healing. Race forced himself to stay put through the rest of his last class.

Race was pleasantly surprised to find Spot come up to him on the way out of school.

The conversation about what had happened could wait, there was still getting home to worry about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing from Mike's POV is up.
> 
> Say hi on Tumblr! @just-gimme-half-a-cup
> 
> Also: Tell me if you put the Easter egg together! You may have to go back a few chapters. :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversation, working and fluff at the end. Maybe everything will be okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote most of this at 10 last night in a fit of inspiration and a blessed gap in the internet blocker my parents installed. 
> 
> The end goal for this chapter was 'make Spot happy and give him and Race a fun moment'

The gaggle of media had disappeared seemingly, thank God.

Spot still has his hood up, hiding his face. He isn’t clinging to Race, but he walks close enough that their arms brush. He relaxes when they entered the house. Race’s parents are both out, and Tommy isn’t out of school yet. 

Race knows Spot knows he knows. So there is no dancing around the issue. “Spot, can I see your arm?” 

Spot nods and pulls up his sleeves. There are more open cuts than Race remembered seeing, and a few are still bleeding. Spot has probably been picking at them. 

Race sighs. “Spot, what happened?”

Spot picks at one of the scabbed over cuts. “It was stupid and I shouldn’t have gotten worked up over it.” He mumbles. 

Race gingerly takes Spot’s hand, using his own hands to occupy Spot’s. “Spot, if it got you worked up it’s not stupid.” 

Spot, surprisingly, allows it. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles. He still has his hood up, so it’s hard to read him. But he lets Race clean up his arms and sit him down on the couch. Spot was not let off homework, which sucks. Race is putting of his (Pile, of very late) work for later. He has more pressing issues, like cuddling Spot and trying to help him feel better. 

Spot however refuses to be cuddled. He shrugs Race off and says he’s helping around the house. So Race ‘helps’ with the dishes by sitting on the counter and sometimes drying things, helps Spot with the living room’s non organization system and after two hours of chores Race finally convinces him to sit down. 

Spot still insists on not sleeping and instead Race sleeps with Spot in his arms, reading. It’s actually rather adorable. 

Spot looks up when the door opens, but it’s just Mike coming back from what Spot assumes is the police station. He looks exhausted. He sits on the opposite side of the couch from Spot and Race.

“Media get you?” Spot asks, glancing between Mike and his book. 

“Media and the police. They wanted me again for questioning.” Mike sighs. “And the media getting ahold of the case apparently tipped Mom and Dad off to start running. They’ve got them now, but still.” Mike slumps onto the couch, trying to fend off a headache.

“The entire school knew. Everyone kept coming up to me and offering apologies and shit.” Spot hears how self centered he sounds and cringes. Another thing his parents bearated him on. He always swore he wasn’t trying to make it about him, that he didn’t know why he did it but it felt better then assuming how someone else felt. He hated it when other people assumed, why should he be a hypocrite? Those were not good nights.

Mike, however, has lived with him long enough to know what he means. “We’ve both had crappy days.”

Spot nods. “Yha, we’ve both had crappy days.” 

Race stirs a little behind Spot. “No ... non voglio banana …”

Spot cracks a small smile. “But bananas are great,” He’s wondering if Race can hear him.

“No, non sono, sono strani alieni …” Race mutters. Spot looks at Mike for possible help with a translation but Mike looks lost. Whatever he was saying, Race doesn’t say anything else. 

Tommy comes in about 30 minutes later, but ignores them in favor of getting something to eat. Neither mind.

“Soo…. What’re you reading?” Mike asks after a few minutes of silence. 

“It's called Black Storm Rising and it's really good! It's about a kid in the 1850’s riding for the Pony Express and trying to get to California to free his aunt. It's really cool and I kinda want to join the Pony Express now, but it's been closed for years and labor laws mean I can't, which kinda sucks? But still it would have been awesome. Scary, but awesome.” Spot barely pauses as he talks and he has a feeling he probably lost Mike.

Mike, however, nods. “It sounds cool, can I read it when you're done?”

Spot nods enthusiastically. “Sure! You’d probably love it.”

Spot reminds himself to be quieter. No one cares about the dumb book. He needs to stop with the babbling and get to work. 

Setting the book down and extracting himself from Race's arms, he does more chores. He does his homework. He does everything he can think of and saves spending time with Race and reading for once he's completely done. 

About halfway through his homework Race tries to get him to do something, Spot doesn't notice what. He maintains that being around Race is a reward, he has to work for it.

Eventually Race leaves him be. Spot finishes soon after and goes to look for him.   
He finds Race in the kitchen. Sitting next to him at the table, Spot tries to read his expression. He looks… Annoyed?

“I'm sorry for ignoring you.” Spot offers. It's usually him who’s the source of annoyence in other people so he has a habit of apologising. 

Race sighs. “It's okay, you were busy and I shouldn't have bothered you. I'm sorry.”

Spot akwardly sat for a second before Race hugged him. Spot, now having a lead, hugged back. 

Yep, he earned this.

Race drags him upstairs for more privet cuddles, which Spot doesn't mind at all. Cuddling on a warm bed is probably one of the best things out there. Right below cuddling with Race in bed. Which is one of the best things in the universe.

Spot is more then happy to be held, a fairly new occurrence but one he loves dearly.

Race is a bit taller then Spot, tall enough that he can rest his head ontop of Spot's and still be able to poke Spot's feet with his cold feet.

After he does it for the third time Spot curls into a ball to protect his feet. Race takes that as a invitation to try and uncurl him.

Withen minutes they're both laughing and trying to tickle each other first.

Spot manages to forget about the day he's had for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 16th chapter on the 16th
> 
> After like two months of zip
> 
> I apologize
> 
> But still
> 
> 16th on the 16th


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot wakes the next morning and knows something is off. Well, not as he wakes up. He wakes up happily in Race's arms and does not want to move thank you very much. 
> 
> It's when he gets downstairs after Race wakes up and insists that they do have to get up now.

Spot wakes the next morning and knows something is off. Well, not as he wakes up. He wakes up happily in Race's arms and does not want to move thank you very much. 

It's when he gets downstairs after Race wakes up and insists that they do have to get up now. 

The adults and Mike are sitting around the kitchen table. They all look serious. 

That's never a good sign. 

“Boys, can you have a seat?” Race's mom asks, gesturing to two empty seats. Something isn't right, and whatever it is it isn't good. 

They sit. Race looks just as uncertain.

“Um… The, the police need you two. At the precinct. Mostly Spot but they said that they need Tony to.” Mrs. Higgins tries to break it to them softly. “Your caseworker would also like to meet with you, Spot.”

Spot has a feeling he knows what for. And he doesn't like it at all. “No, why do they need me?”

“To… Um, to identify your parents. As the ones who…” She trails off. Spot knows the rest of the sentence. The ones who gave him the various assortment of scars. The people he would probably always call Mom and Dad. 

He also knows he's gonna have to face them sooner or later. Probably more then once. It's something he’s working on accepting. But right now? The prospect scares him to death. He knows they won't be able to hurt him, they’ll be behind bars or glass or maybe even both. 

But that's still being face to face with people who didn't give a second thought to hurting their kids. Hurting him.

Race tries to lay a hand on his shoulder, but Spot throws him off. Even Race's gentle touch burns.

Taking a deep breath and struggling to seem calm, he mentally steels himself. This won't be easy. But he can do this, he can. It's just picking his parents out in a lineup, answering a few questions, and then going back home. Or to school, Spot doesn't know which. 

Honestly he doesn't care. Home or school is safe from them. That's what he wants, safety. 

It's not as simple as he thought. 

They don't tell him he's not separated from his parents by nothing more than a pane of glass and a few feet. Not even one way, they can see him. The way his father glares at him tells him all he needs to know about that.

Spot nods anyways. “That's them.” He says quietly. His father's glare hardens, following him as he leaves. Spot can't make himself glare back like he usually would.

Sitting at Detective Felope’s desk, Race tries not to think about what he just saw. 

He’s never known parents to show such… The best word Race can find is hatred, for their own kid. He’s only ever known loving parents, hell all of his friends’ parents were wonderful! 

But Race guesses you’d really need that much hatred to hit your own kids. Spot's parents probably have more hatred then Race's entire family combined.

Spot is still shaking and rocking back and forth slightly. It hurts Race to see him like this.

Detective Felope comes back. “Okay, thank you Sean for doing that. That was very brave of you. And we need you both to be brave one more time. We… We need to prove that you two are soulmates. So we can use Antonio and his testimony in the case.” 

Race is already rolling up his sleeve. He's not letting them hurt Spot, but he's probably going to need to give some kind of testimony and it needs to be valid. “Do it to me.”

Someone with a briefcase walks up, looking hurried. “Sorry I'm late, are these two the ones you called me about?” 

Detective Felope nods. “They are. Antonio's parents signed the permission paper when they dropped these two off. Antonio just needs to sign and we’re set.

Race signs the paper she hands him after giving it a breif lookover. Basically it's just saying yes he agreed to this. No it was not preassured. 

Spot watches his arm in leui of watching Race get hurt. His sleeve is rolled up just past his elbow, above where the Mark will be.

It's a small cut on his upper arm, easily covered by a bandaid and easy to look over once healed. 

In the same spot on Spot's arm, a light blue mark on his upper arm appears. It's confirmation. That's all they need.

Race gets a bandaid and a very sincere apology about how this had to happen. It's not really much solace, but he’ll live.

Spot's caseworker shows up soon after and talks to him in private. Race doesn't know about what. 

Race's mom picks them up about an hour later and takes them home. Race isn't sure he can deal with school right now. 

Like many of the days before, they sit on the couch and watch movies. Though now it's a mix of Love, Simon and Star Trek. Race learns that Spot read and really really loves the book and the movie. 

Star Trek is it's own bout of hallarity. Spot and Race come to conclusion they both want pet tribbles. Safe ones, though. 

Once the end of the school day comes around and apparently the start of a long long weekend, the house is over run by teenagers and tweens. 

Race has gotten used to it at this point. 

Jack and Itey have a very animated conversation in Sign Language with Davey intergecting on occasion. Eventually everyone is paying attention because it has evolved from 'So what if I like anchovies’ to the fine sciences of pizza and it's toppings. 

It's a great source of entertainment until dinner. 

Dinner is several pounds of pasta, sooo much garlic bread and a surplus of meatballs and salad. It's all gone very quickly. 

Race notices that Finch and Tommy Boy are a lot closer then normal. And there's a certain level of curiosity in the way they both look at the world around them.

He signs to Jack down the table. 'You owe me 5$’

Jack rolls his eyes and looks away. 

Spot looks at him questioningly. “What was that about?”

“Jack owes me 5 bucks, he bet that Tommy Boy and Finch weren't soulmates. I bet they were.” Race smirks. Spot rolls his eyes but Race sees him smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so next chapter is meaningless fluff, and then we get the angst. Also schedule what schedule don't know her


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff fluff fluff ALL THE FLUFF

The next few weeks were… Not eventful, not as adrenaline pumping as the first weeks they knew each other. After the rush of everything it was nice to calm down, get to know each other when it wasn't a life and death situation, or coming out of one.

One Friday, Race decided to surprise Spot with pancakes and almost burned them all until Spot woke up and helped. 

That Saturday was spent teaching Race the basics of cooking and Race swearing up and down Spot was the best cook since Race's own mother.

Monday of next week was back to school, it went much better. Spot showed himself to be a really protective friend, more then willing to get into a scrape to defend any of their friends. He didn't seem to care, brushing it off as bruises. Much to Race's displeasure.

“Spot, again?”

“What can I say,” Spot would usually shrug here, “They had it coming. 

And Race would patch him up and kiss him.   
A few Wendsdays later Race saw Spot reading to Allie. They both looked like they were enjoying themselves. Race let them be.

That Friday, Race and Spot went on their first official date.

Race's mother dragged them both out shopping for clothes and when they went out that night it was clear she had primmed them both up. Race even had a small pink rose to offer Spot. 

That date, a simple 'go out to eat at a nice restaurant’, went off without a hitch. And while it wasn't really either of their styles, they had fun.

Their favorite times were sleeping together in bed. Spot would usually wake up first and Race usually had a very messy bedhead. 

Race had a great time watching Jack and Spot argue. It was usually over nothing but they'd each get invested in it just to spite the other but it usually ended in a truce and bro hug. Since they were a 'no hard feelings’ argument pair, it was a source of entertainment.

Mike also ended up getting dragged into the group, kinda. He was easily the oldest. And that left him running after a lot of half thought trough plans.

Like trying parkor on someone's fence. 

The weeks between the trip to the police station and the formal start of the trial were peaceful.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot hates the outfit he has to wear.
> 
> He hates a lot of things about the trial, but he chooses to focus on the least upsetting. The monkey suit. It's stiff and formal, and the fabric feels wrong in all the wrong ways. It isn't tailored, probably part of why it's so uncomfortable.
> 
> (Also Jared is back, it's not as bad as you think)

Spot hates the outfit he has to wear.

He hates a lot of things about the trial, but he chooses to focus on the least upsetting. The monkey suit. It's stiff and formal, and the fabric feels wrong in all the wrong ways. It isn't tailored, probably part of why it's so uncomfortable.

The only plus? Race looks great in one and he looks a lot more comfortable in his.

Race helps him adjust the shirt collar. “You look great. Ready to kick some ass and look like super spies while doing it?”

“You know it.” Spot mumbles. He doesn't feel ready, but he figures he never will. No one, he reasons, is ever ready to go to court to possibly get their parents sent to jail. There's only as ready as he can ever be, and that's what he is right now.

Taking his hand, Race makes sure he remembers his fidget bracelet before they go. Mike looks very out of place in his suit, and awkward. But he exchanges a look with Spot. He's as ready as he's ever going to be, just like Spot. 

Allie is brought along for a lack of knowing what else to do with her. Buckled in the back seat of the van. The rest of the gang is picked up on the way, or will be going with their parents. 

Spot hopes that there won't be any reporters or interviews. Today is stressful enough. He's missing school, all of them are. And he's scared.

Foucus on the suit. 

It works until he's in the room, the room with his parents and there's nothing separating them from him. He avoids looking at them for as long as he can. But as the day starts, he has to. 

After the 'All rise’ yada yada yada, the whole thing starts. It's mostly haggling about the jury thank goodness. Spot is pretty sure that the state lawyer, who reperesents him and Mike, is new. 

Spot is still glad it's mostly jury haggling. 

Eventually lunch is called. Spot takes the opportunity to disappear. 

After everyone reconvened, it’s still a lot of jury haggling. Spot still doesn't mind. When the actual trial starts he's scared. He spots Jared talking to Mike. He looks nervous, glancing at Mom and Dad.

Spot, curious, walks over. 

Jared notices and watches him. Nervously. He waves akwardly. “Um, hi. Nice to see you again.” 

Spot nods. “Hi. So, you're here to.” Spot crosses his arms. 

Jared nods. “They said I had to. I guess there's no more point trying to get in Mom and Dad's good books.” He tries to laugh, but it doesn't sound right.

Mike sighs. “This is just one shitty day after another.” He mumbles. 

Spot and Jared nod in agreement. 

Race joins them, standing next to Spot. “Who’s this guy?”

Spot notices that Jared winces slightly. “Um, Jared. Mike and Sean's other brother. I'm the middle one.” 

Mike gives Jared a strange look. Spot tries to decipher it, but he can't. Something is going on, but what Spot can't tell is what. He wants to find out.

But it can wait.

There's a very nerve wracking court case to watch. 

And a very suspicious dot on the top of Jared's neck, above his collar. 

Spot knows what it is. He just wonders what made him not-normal enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was gonna be a combination of days 1&2, but as this is mostly jury haggling and the next one is going to be 2, 3 and probably 4 it could be by itself. Though that may also be split up. Also if anyone asks about Jared, he had a reason, and he explains it.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jury haggling is over, the actual trial is starting. It had been deemed unsafe to give Spot's parents coustody again because of… Reasons Race didn't care to pay attention to. 
> 
> Spot, Mike, and Allie, and now Jared, aren't going back.
> 
> Now to prove it.

Day 2 1/2

The next day is much scarier. 

Jury haggling is over, the actual trial is starting. It had been deemed unsafe to give Spot's parents coustody again because of… Reasons Race didn't care to pay attention to. 

Spot, Mike, and Allie, and now Jared, aren't going back.

Now to prove it.

The defense gets first go. Character testimony, belittling the evidence of any crime having been committed. 

It's pretty solid, actually.

Friends of the family all say that Mr. & Mrs. Conlon were the perfect upper middle class parents of four perfect upper middle class kids. Until now at least.

A mental health professional, however, undermines it by admitting during a cross examination that they both seemed to display the typical signs of abusers.

Race is overall pleased by how their lawyer, though new, seems to know what he's doing. And breaking down the argument that they aren't guilty.

He is really damn good.

The issues mostly present themselves on the lack of evidence aside from four kids and a few blood stains. 

Race realizes that that is basically all they have for physical evidence. It's flimsy to say the least. It makes him nervous.

Race notices Spot is rocking back and forth in his chair. Race offers Spot his hand to hold. Spot takes it, tracing a pattern on his palm. 

What Race was scared of was their case not being convincing enough after this. The way everyone described the Conlon family they seemed perfect.

Race knows differently. 

What really makes him mad is when a different ‘mental health doctor’ person tries to say that Spot made everything up. Citing that he self-harmed, his autsim, and his low grades as evidence. “It is highly likely all the stories of abuse were the results of a overactive imagination, and all marks are self-inflicted.”

Race, Blink, Mike, Jack and all their friends, and basically everyone who knows Mush and Spot, stand up ready to kill. 

Their lawyer tries to object as well. “Your honor I object to this blatant abilism. And false information, the young man I represent has low grades in exactly one class.”

Race, Mike, Jack and Blink are still out for blood. How did he even know about the self-harm? 

Race felt Spot tug at his hand. And Race remembered Spot had been there to hear that. 

Race sat back down. “Spot?”

Spot looks terrified. “How’d they know? How?” The start of tears were brimming in his eyes and Race couldn't blame him at all.  
“Do you wanna leave?” Race asks. So many people looking at him probably made nothing better. But Spot shakes his head.

“No, no I can do this.” He doesn't sound sure at all. “How did they know?” Race is sure he's never heard Spot sound so small.

“I don't know. But it's gonna be knocked down. That doctor was way out of line.” Race says confidently. If he's confident, maybe Spot will be less worried.

While the two have been talking, the judge decides to uphold their lawyer's objection. 

Thankfully, lunch is called.

Once they're outside and away from all the people, Spot curls in on himself. “How’d they know, I never told anyone.. Never, no one knew. Only you and the guys… And none of them would tell someone else, right? Maybe it was the doctor, at the hospital? Yha, he saw. And they would have asked him.” Spot works out what probably happened verbally, talking it out to himself. 

“That sounds pretty likely.” Race says. “Do you wanna go back in there after lunch?” 

Spot nods. “I just… I need a minute. You go, I’ll be fine. You’ll know if anything happens.” 

“Okay. You wanna hide in the bathroom? Or find a dead-end hallway?”

Spot opted to hide in the bathroom. Race waited outside. With Spot's parents in the building, Race didn't want to leave him alone. 

After 10 minutes, Spot quietly joined him in leaning on the wall. “Hi.”

“Hey. Do you feel better?”

“Yha. Thanks.” 

They get some light snacks from the closest Starbucks. Race texts everyone that they're okay, just at somewhere different.

They're both exhausted, but Spot has to be there for the trial. And like hell Race isn't going to be there.

It's their turn anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2, 2/2

Day 2 2/2

Spot is really fucking tired to say the least. To say the most, he's strung-out, exhausted both mentally and physically, and it's only been half the day.

He just wants this whole thing to be over. 

But there's still maybe days left of this, and he hates it. And it's hot in there, and the suit is really stuffy. 

Still foucusing on the suit, it's better then other things he could foucus on. 

At least he doesn't have to hear more of the 'he's making it up’ speil. Now he gets to explain stuff, which won't be fun. 

At least he's not first. They present the evidence first. Spot doesn't look at it, he can't make himself look up. He doesn't want to see. Various gasps come from the jury box and the audience. Spot's glad he didn't look up.

“To counter the defense’s argument that he did this to himself, do these look like something you can inflict apon yourself?”

Apparently Spot is being saved for a little bit, because Mike is the first person they call to the stand. Spot pays attention for the first time, he wants to know what Mike has to say.

“How old were you when everything started?”

“I was 9, Jared was 8 and Sean was 7.”

A few scattered gasps. Spot tries not to roll his eyes. Now they care about how old they all were.

“Did your parents force you to watch? Were you ever threatened if you didn't?”

“I don't think they cared. They only ever hurt Sean that I saw, but I guess they hurt Je-Jared to. I was the perfect one, Sean and Jared weren't.”

The cross examination went even better.

“Would you say your brothers have wild imaginations?” 

“Nope.” Mike answered in a perfect monotone.

“Did you ever witness this 'abuse’ occuring?”

“Yep. Frequently.”

The lawyer for their parents was starting to sweat. Spot tries not to laugh at him. He was just digging himself a hole. “Was Allison Conlon ever harmed?”

“Nope.” Mike wasn't lying, they hadn't ever hurt her. 

The lawyer looks a little relieved. That's something for him. “No further questions your honar.”

Next up is Race. Spot greatly dislikes not being next to him, but he’ll live. 

Race takes the oath thing and sits down. 

“So, Mr. Higgins. You and Sean Conlon are soulmates, correct?”

“We are indeed, found each other a few months ago.” Race shot him a smile, and Spot smiled back. 

“You share a skin-to-skin connection, correct? Wounds, to be specific?”

“We do. Eye color, to be exact.”

“And you have been seeing these marks appear on you for how long?”

“Since I was seven sir. Before that it was mostly skinned knees, a couple scratches. When I was seven I started gettin’ dots on my neck, slashes on my back, and I don't get bruises. But there were probably a lot of those to.”

Their lawyer nods. “What about the night you all went to the hospital?”

“Well, Sp- er, Sean, he hadn't been in school for 'bout a week. We were all real worried, we’re a tight group. And things kept showing up and it scared me, because he was hurt and I still couldn't do anything about it dispite having met him and found out we were soulmates at that point.” The fear leaks into Race’s words, and he glances at Spot to make sure he's still there.

The lawyer continues. “Your parents took you to a doctor when you were 10, to have a professional identify what the marks were from?” 

“Yes, that is correct.”

“And they confirmed it was abuse?” 

“They did. No two ways about it.”

The lawyer looked satisfied. “No more questions your honor.”

Then the cross examination begins. But it takes a turn. A turn Spot hates. 

“The only proof we have of you and Sean being soulmates are your words and a few brown and blue marks. What other proof do we have?”

Race looks him right in the eyes. “And video.”

The lawyer looks a little taken aback. “What?”

“There is video evidence that me and Sean are indeed soulmates.”

The lawyer huffs. “Well I'm sure the judge and jury would like to see it.”

A small TV is rolled in. Spot avoids watching it. Race may say Spot has a blue freckle where they pricked him, but he doesn't want to watch it. He doesn't want to watch them hurt Race.

Once it's over apparently the whole plan has been thrown off the rails. 

Spot smirks at Race and Race smirks back.They just love throwing this guy off his plan. Spot hears Jack and Davey high five behind him and Blink whoops. 

“No… No further questions your honor.”

And now Spot assumes it's his turn, but instead it's Jared. Which will be all kinds of fun. 

Spot really doubts he'll be of any use. Jared hates him and there's a low chance of him saying anything helpful.

“So, Jared. You faced abuse as well?”

“I did.” Jared says softly, glancing between the lawyer and their parents. He’s oddly twitchy. Well, not oddly. Considering what had probably happened. 

“Can you specify what happened?” The lawyer asked. “I know it’s probably painful, but we need you to provide as much information as possible.”

Jared took a deep breath. “Um, cigars put out on my back, a few times Dad used his belt, and the usual hitting so that was fun.” Jared laughed humorlessly. 

“Thank you. You were left alone in the house the night your siblings ran away? What happened?” 

“I don’t really know, I hid as fast as I could.” Jared admits. Spot hadn’t known that. Then again, he reasons, how could he have? Spot tries not to feel sad for him, Jared had been nothing but cruel and sadistic to him for two years. He wasn’t deserving of his empathy. 

Spot doesn’t really care enough to pay attention to the rest of Jared’s part. There was a person Jared was, and what Spot is learning now contradict this. 

What if Jared expects him to just forgive him? ‘Sorry I did all that I was being abused to, we’re besties now’?! No, Spot is not doing that crap. He doesn’t notice how tense he is until Race gently takes his hand. 

Spot focuses on Race. Race is there, he’ll probably understand.

He loses himself in his thoughts. It takes Race gently shaking him for him to look up. He’s being called up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You think I wouldn't?
> 
> I just wanted to update the cliffhanger wasn't meant to happen.
> 
> Since I updated for the first time in a while, ask me stuff! https://got-the-east-side.tumblr.com/


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot's testimony.

Spot walks up to the stand, nervous and alone. He knows he’ll be asked questions, hard questions. But he can do it. He has to. He owes it to Allie and Mike and Race and, he guesses, to himself. 

He takes the oath, and sits down. He fiddles with his fidget bracelet. He needs to remain calm. 

Spot steels himself. He can do this.

“Do you remember what your parents did to you?” The lawyer asks.

Spot nods. “I- yes. I remember. I guess you can see what in those pictures.” 

“How long has this been going on?”

“Since I was seven, and I'm sixteen now, so nine years.” Spot scratches his arm. His nails are too short and the suit sleeve prevents him from hurting himself, but he wishes those weren't reality right now. He needs a distraction. 

“Your parents deprived you of food, correct?”

“Well, sometimes. If I messed up dinner. I’d have to re-make it and I wasn't allowed to eat anything.” Spot couldn't look anyone in the face if he wanted to. The familiar burn of his father's eyes are upon him. 

Spot's breath stutters. Can he? Should he? It's not like they can hurt him. In a momentary spurt of bravery he glances at the people he once associated with the word 'parents’. He can't look for more than a second though. He’s not that brave. But he considers it a victory of sorts. They don't control him anymore. And it’ll take time, but one day he's going to flip off his parents while decked out in the most outrageous outfit he can find. And he's going to do that one day. 

Spot smiles a little to himself at the thought. 

“Would you say your parents inhibited your ability to function?” The lawyer asks, snapping Spot out of his thoughts. He sounds ever so condescending, like he's talking down to Spot. He tries not to resent the guy.

“Yha, I’d say they did.” Spot says, just above a whisper. 

“Would the damage they caused make it difficult to make it in life?”

“I dunno. Maybe, it probably messed me up emotionally.” Spot laughs a little, humorlessly. 

“No more questions your honar.” Their lawyer says, and the other lawyer gets ready for his cross-examination. Spot isn't looking forward to this. 

“So, your nickname is Spot, right?” The lawyer asks. He sounds condescending as well, but Spot won't forgive him. 

“Yes, it is.” Spot says curtly. “Glad to see your brain is big enough to listen to me talk with my friends.” Ha.

“Tell us the reason you’re called Spot, will you?” The lawyer asks.

“I had a lot of freckles.” Spot says flatly. “Blink called me Spot because I was freckly.”

The lawyer seemingly takes his fall with grace. “You claim to also have expirened abuse-”

“Isn't that why we're here?” Spot cuts him off. “Because unless you and me are thinking very differently you're just-” The judge cuts him off. 

“Enough. Mr. Trenton, continue.”

“Thank you your Honar. As I was saying, you claim to have experienced abuse at the hands of your parents. A claim they have not confirmed.”

“.. You expect them to come clean about using their kids as punching bags and ashtrays?” 

“No, I’m saying that we have only testimony and photos. Photoshop existes and liars lie especially well when paid.”

Spot doesn't like where this could potentially go. “No. I'm not doing that. No.” 

The lawyer smirks. “Then-”

“I can prove it.” Race says.

The lawyer continues, overpowering Race's words. “Then I-”

“I CAN PROVE IT!” Race shouts. It startles everyone. 

“Um, okay. If you can present evidence please do.” The judge says.

Spot fiddles with the bracelet. He can't look at Race's back without crying. It's a perfect image of his own, only brown. And, well, Spot doesn't want to think about Race watching each mark show up. 

They both knew this could happen though. 

Spot only looks back up when the judge clears his throat. “Okay, well.. Mr. Trenton, I don't believe your statement is upheld.”

If Spot isn't mistaken, he looks relieved. He guesses that Mr. Trenton was not fond of working with his parents. Spot doesn’t like them either, he doubts many people actually like his parents. 

Spot is allowed to step down. He can't pay attention to the closing statements. He feels his father's eyes on him the entire time. And that seems like it’d be more important to focus on. 

While the jury is out, Spot eventually can't take it. He gets up. “I'm gonna grab a drink.” He mumbles, heading out to the hallway.

Race leaves him be. Spot is a little glad, but also nervous. He’ll be alone. All alone.

While he's outside, he hears the 'click click’ of heels. Out of habit he stands up a little straighter. But he doesn't move.

“What were you thinking in there?!” His mother hisses, grabbing his arm. 

Spot tries to throw her off but fails. Her grip only tightens. “We gave you food and clothes and a good house with your own room and this is how you repay us?!” 

Spot barely breaths. Preparing for whatever words she may have.

“We didn't have to feed you as well as we did. Give you good clothes, try and make you better. No, you repay us by trying to get us locked into jail! Your own parents, the people who gave your retarded ass life.” She snarls. 

Spot isn't going to defend himself. It's only ever ended terribly. But he doesn't have to. Someone else saves him. 

Race pulls her back away from him. “Get offa him!” He yells, ready to throw a punch. 

The rest of his friends gather around them, cracking their knuckles and prepare to fight. Thankfully they don't, Race shoves Spot's mother back. “Come near him again and we won't hesitate.” He snarls. 

She backs off, slinking back inside the courtroom. 

Spot lets himself breath. That was terrifying.  
“Hey, Spotty, how you feeling?” Blink asks, glaring at her as she walks away.

“I- I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.” Spot says shakily. 

“Do you want a hug, or should we leave you be?” Race asks gently.

Spot nods. “A hug would be great.” He wants reassurance right now. 

Race hugs him as tight as he can. Then joined by Jack and Blink and Mush and then everyone is hugging him. And Spot loves the feeling. It's not constricting, it's warm. 

He has almost everyone he loves at this moment. 

After a few minutes, Jack pulls away to check on the courtroom. “GUYS THE JURY IS BACK!!” He yells. “C’mon we wanna hear this!” 

A rush to get back inside is made.

Spot stands frozen in the doorway with Race as they give the verdict.

“Guilty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the epilogue, which will be posted on Saturday.
> 
> Edit: Please ask me questions about Lines on Tumblr!   
> https://got-the-east-side.tumblr.com


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7 years later...

~Seven years later~ 

Spot decides when he wakes up that today is the day. He’s gonna do it. He’s gonna wear rainbows so bright that Jack would cringe and flip his parents off. 

He doesn't want to sit up right now though. Race is snuggled up against his chest and sleeping. He doesn't want to disturb him just yet.

Their apartment isn't far from their hometown. Their friends are scattered throughout the building. No one is ever more then a elevator away from a friendly person. It's a dream.

It's a day before work. Student loans don't pay themselves, and Spot has found a entirely new kind of soulmate mark and he's eager to get to it. Race is in the middle of a production of Tuck Everlasting. 

They both have jobs they love. 

Kissing Race goodbye before they go their separate ways for the day is one of his favorite parts of the day. 

Work is a exciting blur. Spot enjoys doing this, and he's becoming distinguished in his field. He’s in a niche area, but that doesn't stop his pride. He loves to share what he's working on. 

Once work is done he goes home and finds all the brightest colored clothes he can with the help of seven year old Allie -who may only see grayscale but she's a master of which shades of grey are prettiest- and Mush. The three of them pick the most eye bleeding colors and Allie begs to be taken along. 

Spot declines. Allie doesn't remember their parents, and everyone wants to keep it that way. He does tell Mike and Jen. 

Mike offers encouragement, Jen asks if she can come.

'Sure’ Spot says. He honestly still doesn't trust her that much, even after all this time. But she was hurt to. She deserves to flip them off to.

The prison guards give the siblings strange looks to say the least. Spot is rainbows and Jen covered in pink. 

Their mother and father don't even sit down before Spot and Jen flip them off. “Thanks for the memories,” Spot starts.

“But fuck you.” Jen finishes. 

And that's that. 

Spot is proud of himself. He did what he promised himself he’d do. One last ultimate 'fuck you’. 

He tells Race about it at dinner after his third show of the week. He’s proud to. He’s been proud of Spot since day one. 

Sitting on the couch, watching the Avengers for the millionth time, Spot still pins his hands to his sides sometimes. Sometimes he won't and Race will watch with a wide smile as Spot lets himself be as happy as he is. 

He’s not perfect at it yet. 

But he's getting there. 

Racetrack Higgins and Spot Conlon were soulmates.

And this is part of their story.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's over. This wild ride is over. I can't believe I finished this! Thank you to everyone who's commented, left a kudos, or bookmarked! It seriously gave me the inspiration and drive to finish this. Thank you all. 
> 
> And Carbon65, thank you. :)
> 
> -The author


End file.
